Willing
by Sasha Dixon
Summary: Alexandria is at war with the Saviors and Daryl has fallen apart. It takes a new member of the team to show him that life is still worth fighting for. A/N: Takes place after episode 6.14. Some comic book spoilers included.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N** : I edited this chapter to fix some typos

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Chapter 1

He was back in the field. Today he came in a run down car he parked alongside the road. He wandered near the trees as the light dimmed, sending out cascades of deep orange and light purples across the sky.

He held his crossbow over his shoulder. He was an archer, like her. She peered down at him. Curious what he would do today. She kept telling herself to move on and find another spot but she was drawn to watching him. She understood him somehow. She knew what it was to lose hope and have deep grief.

He had been coming to the field almost every evening before the sun sank down below the horizon for over a week. He was a broken man. Screaming, beating the ground, sitting for hours smoking as the sky turned black and stars and moon lit the earth in a silver blue glow. Sometimes he drank and lay on his back looking up at the heavens.

Once, he sat beneath her tree and cried, his whole body shaking as he let out muffled sounds of anguish. That night she sat as still as possible in the tree top on a branch with her back against the trunk. She barely breathed as he let his sorrow out, full and encompassing.

His first night in the field he rode up on a motorcycle. She heard the rumble of the bike from a long distance and stood in her tree to get a look at what was coming down the road. He let the bike fall on the ground as he ran into the field, screaming rage and torment and suffering into the wind. He called a few of the dead from their aimless shuffling and they moaned deep in the darkness as they ambled towards him. He took them out with his crossbow and pulled each spent arrow out of them.

That night she couldn't quite see him, just a dark figure in a dark field, slumped in defeat. When he came the next day, before the shadows overtook everything in her sight, she was able to see his lanky brown hair hung down on his face and his leather vest bore angel wings.

A biker, she knew. But she wasn't afraid. She felt curious, then sympathetic as the ritual continued, then pity as it stretched out to ten days.

She thought about approaching him but was wary of others. She had been on her own for a long time now. Keeping to the woods, sleeping in the trees, living off the land. She would hunt rabbits and squirrels and birds in the mornings and cook them in the light of day. By dusk she would climb into the lush trees and tie herself and supplies in with bungie cords she took from the sporting supply store she had looted at the start of the outbreak.

She had been in three groups previously and all of them had been destroyed by other stronger groups. It was easier to be alone. In the winter she would find a home to stay in, always up high in the attic. She made sure the houses were already looted which would make them unattractive to others.

The last of the light dwindled in the sky when the moans began to rise. More than one was coming. It sounded like many. She looked behind her but saw no movement. Looking at the man, who swayed on his feet drunk, she had to think. Should she get down, warn him, or let the creatures take him and send him from his misery and torment that brought him here almost nightly?

* * *

Daryl was lost in a sea of grief. So suddenly everything had changed for him. Alexandria had taken on a foe stronger than they could imagine and he had lost so much because of it.

He stood in the field and drank from a bottle of whiskey that had been found on a run. He came the first night to release his pain in private but then found his way back almost every night. Drawn to the silence, the solitude, and the agony he could only feel freely here.

He was tired of fighting. The fight with the Saviors was only just beginning and had already devastated him.

 _So much loss_ , he thought, drawing a mouthful of liquid before sending it burning down his throat to his chest.

All he cared for was gone. What was the point now? Merle was gone. Herschel. Beth. Denise. And now the worst hurt. The one that didn't let him close his eyes for long.

He could still hear the thud and scrape of wood and barbed wire on the asphalt. The crack of bone. The grunt of pain. The squish of blood and brain. The silence that followed.

He could never see the entire face after the destruction, just one eye hanging from a mass that once was a face. A face that smiled and cared and worried.

Carol's eyes looked far off away from the group as she kneeled in front of Negan. Silent tears streamed down her face and when Negan lifted his bat, his sweet Lucille he called it, she finally focused on them. On him. Whispering _sorry_.

He would sit up at his window looking down at the silence of Alexandria, under fresh new construction from the damage caused by the raid on them. His heart would tighten and his breath would hitch and he would need to get out. His mind told him to just run, run screaming into the night. Go mad, just let go.

Instead he came here and screamed and railed and cried and drank. Away from the others who looked to him for protection. What protection could he offer?

He swallowed his whiskey again and again and again. His mind was starting to become fuzzy, unfocused. Tonight he would drink the bottle down and lay in the field and let whatever was waiting to take him have him.

* * *

The moans got louder. She could now hear the shuffling of things over the dead leaves below. She watched the man sit on the ground, drinking as much as he could then he lay down.

 _Get up_ , she urged him silently. _Get the fuck up_.

She didn't want to do nothing but she didn't want to move. She had tried to help so many before who were unable to help themselves. She had been trapped before by people who surrendered to the lawlessness of this new world. The callousness it brought with it.

She thought back to his crying beneath her. Evil men don't mourn she told herself as the dead got closer. Evil men don't have sorrow so deep.

She unhitched her rucksack from the trunk of the tree and slipped it on her back. She grabbed her bow and quiver of arrows and dropped them to the ground then climbed down after them.

Beneath the trees the darkness suffocated her. The moans beat into her ears and began to overwhelm her senses. She couldn't tell how close, the shuffling got louder along with the sounds of limbs being dragged along the ground. She slung her bow over her shoulder and clipped her quiver to her belt and took off towards the man drowning in the dead wheat of the field up ahead.

Daryl sat up at the sound of someone coming towards him. Running towards him. He dropped his bottle on the ground and grabbed his crossbow. The sound got closer, in his fuzzy haze he peered into the dark. He saw the figure quickly approaching.

"Get up," it said. A female voice. "Get the fuck up they're coming."

He blinked at the silhouette that now stood above him. It was a small figure, who had one hand on her hip holding arrows still in a hip quiver and the other tugging at his arm.

"Please get up. You're not fucking dying on my field." She was strong, he felt himself lift slightly off the ground then thump back down.

Why should he get up. It was his choice to sit here and let them take him.

"Keep running." He said firmly. He still gripped his crossbow.

 _If you want to die, why did you grab it_ , he thought to himself. _You want whatever that came to take you. Let her take you._

"I can't outrun these things and I can't fight them all. If you don't get up, we both die," she gave a loud grunt as she tugged more sharply on his arm.

He slowly got to his feet. He could hear the moaning behind them now, spilling from the trees and sound of the dead wheat under their feet.

"Car's over there," he pointed. He dug into his pockets. "Here are the keys."

She ran to the car and put her stuff in the back as he stumbled up and got in the passenger seat. She sat behind the wheel and tried to start the car. It sputtered and died. She turned the key again and got a shorter stutter before it died again. Her heart thudded in her chest and her breathing quickened. _I tried to help this asshole and now I'm going to die_ , she thought as she looked in the rearview and saw a massive swarm heading over the field towards them.

"It usually takes three tries," he said thickly to her before putting his head against the glass of the window.

She turned the key again and the engine roared. She threw the car in drive and drove straight ahead. A few of the dead fell against the car but she kept going, struggling to see the road in the darkness. She put the highbeams on and took a sharp left to get away from the growing swarm.

"Where to?" She looked over at him and he rolled his head up and looked at her. She heard the rush of wind as he put his window down, he put his head out and threw up all over the side of the car.

"You got any water?"

"Front section of my pack. Don't get any ideas about stealing from me." She was fast regretting getting down from the safety of her tree. The swarm would have passed under her, never knowing she was up above looking down at them. By morning they would have been gone and she could have moved on to find another camping spot.

Daryl could remember drinking a lot in the last few days but had no memory of having eaten. He drank deeply from her water bottle, swishing the liquid around to clean his mouth out.

"I went to that field to die tonight." He held the bottle in his hand.

"I know." She tried not to look at him as she searched for a good place to hold up until sun up when they could part ways. She was trying to get her bearings to see if she could think of a place she had already been.

"I told myself I wouldn't fight whatever came to me in that field," he leaned out the window to spit. "I guess you got there before the walkers could."

She stared at his profile in the darkness. How could she be so stupid to think this sad man was worth saving. She still held tight to her stupid romantic notions of her past life. Her pity for him clouded her judgement.

"I know a place up ahead we can camp out at. In the morning, you go your way, I go mine."

He nodded in the darkness of the car. He was pathetic. He felt pathetic. A drunk fool filled with sorrow and self pity. Afraid of his dreams and what life held in the future but too afraid to just die.

"Are you dangerous?" It was too late to ask now but she did anyway.

"Only to those who try to hurt me." He said in his gruff southern accent.

"Do you rape women?"

"I ain't no rapist," he shot back quickly. "I ain't no fucking pervert." His voice was angry, indignant and that gave her a sense of relief. The men who hurt her had been full of charm and smiles.

"You lost your woman? Your kids?" He was silent, she could feel his eyes on her. "That why you want to die?"

"I don't have any of that. Never have." His voice was quiet and sad. "I lost my friend. My best friend not to long ago. She was like an older sister. Made sure I was okay and I couldn't save her."

"I'm sorry." They got quiet as she drove down the streets in an abandoned town. She pulled the car to a stop in an alley and shut the engine off. "We get out here. We can cut across the back of this alley. I know a place we can stay. You steady enough to put up a fight if you have to?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

They walked silently down the narrow street behind the buildings. There was an apartment she had stayed in months back that could only be accessed by fire escape. The best part was it would be easy to take the ladder off and bring it inside so no one could climb up after them. The front entrance to the building was blocked by debris that would make a too much noise to remove. When she left the place she had put the ladder behind some bushes just in case she needed to get back. She did this with a lot of the places she camped out at. Hiding tools of entry around the property so only she could gain access.

They kept to the middle of the street in case something was lurking close to the buildings. They moved slowly to keep the noise down. With every step her supplies rattled. It wasn't loud but in the silence it clanged in her ears like church bells.

He kept his weapon drawn and sweeping it from side to side to hit any dangers. She was grateful for the cover as she concentrated on locating the building in the dark.

"It's here," she whispered to him. She walked to the tall bush nearby and kicked it with her foot and quickly stepped back. He trained his crossbow on the bush and they waited for signs of movement. Nothing. She leaned into to bush and with a few tugs she pulled out the iron ladder for the fire escape.

Handing it to him she said, "I need you to hook this to that walkway then pull it up after you. He nodded and slung his bow over his shoulder and did as she asked. As they heard the ladder hook a scratching moan filled the alleyway. She climbed up and he did the same, pulling the ladder up behind him. She moved to a window and tapped on it and after nothing came, slid it open slowly and climbed through. The creature in the alley stopped beneath them and hissed up at them, scratching the air in its feeble attempt to reach them.

Daryl climbed in after her, impressed. She had been here before and made sure that only she could come here. She asked him to close the window and said she would open the small one over the kitchen sink to let some air in. He stood by the window, trying let his eyes adjust to the darkness. He heard a whirring noise near where she was and in a short time a beam from a flashlight came on.

"It's hand cranked. No batteries needed." She looked around and pulled out a large blanket. "Can you hang this on those nails above the window." He followed her beam of light and saw what she was referring to. He hung up the blanket over that window and another sheet over the one in the kitchen. When that was done she began to light the candles that were on the coffee table in the livingroom.

He finally got to get a look at his rescuer. She stood behind the couch, her eyes on him. She was nervous, he didn't blame her.

"I'm not a threat." He said as he put his weapon by the window they came in. He noticed her hand was near a knife she had strapped to her left thigh. Her hip quiver on her right hip.

He walked around getting a look at the place. The apartment was small with a modest living/dining room combination. The dining room table had been broken apart and was now hammered against the front door. There looked to be two rooms down a short hallway. Those doors were sealed shut by legs of chairs hammered between the door and door jamb.

As she watched him sit all she could think was that he looked like hell. His eyes had dark bags under them, he had a wild tangle of beard on his face and his hair seemed matted in places.

He could feel her staring as he sat on the couch. "What's your name?" He leaned back in the couch. "I'm Daryl."

"Harley." She went over the kitchen and opened a cupboard. "I think I left some cans here. You need to eat."

"I'm fine," he mumbled as he kicked his shoes off. "I had a Harley once. I miss that thing. She was a beauty."

Harley had a can of peas and a can of corn. She put them down on the table in front of him and stepped away. "Choose," her voice was firm.

Daryl looked at her. She was good looking. She had her hair cut into a short afro that puffed out behind a band and wore a plain black t shirt with the sleeves cut off, showing off her lean, muscular upper arms that each had a bandana tied around them. She wore fingerless wrist supports on her hands. She looked sternly at him with large almond shaped eyes.

"Corn I guess." He watched as she whipped a army knife out her back pocket and began to open the tins. The sound of the can opener tool scratching and scaping against the tin sent a march of hammers to his brain. He rubbed his temples to quell the agony the sound produced and shut his eyes.

He could hear her rummaging through her pack and then felt her standing over him. He opened his eyes to a spoon in his face. "I need this back when you're done."

They ate in silence. Him with his corn on the couch and her standing against the wall opposite him with her peas. He needed food. The clenching in his stomach subsided along with the slight nausea. The puking had helped too. He paid no mind to her suspicion of him. She didn't seem likely to attack unless he did something and he had no plans other than closing his eyes and trying to get a bit of sleep.

Daryl drank down the water in the can when he finished to corn and set the empty tin down next to the candles. "You stay here?"

"It's one of my winter homes," she said as she got another scoop of peas on her mouth.

"You're out here alone? No one else with you?" She eyed him from the wall, shifting her body to a better stance in case she had to defend herself, still eating. "I have a group not too far from here." He paused. He couldn't sell Alexandria right now. It had been attacked, the front gate torn down. "I would ask you to join us but things aren't so good right now." He leaned forward and held the spoon out towards her.

Harley gingerly took it from him and stepped back to her position at the wall. She wasn't interested in being in a group. She didn't fit with them. Her past groups were filled with scared, irrational and dangerous people.

"Why'd you save me?" His voice was tired.

"Because I'm an asshole," she deadpanned. Daryl laughed weakly. "I've seen you in that field. Screaming. Railing at the wind." He stared at her, a frown on his face. She could tell he didn't care for her spying on him, but she wasn't spying. He had come into her territory. "You were sitting under the tree I was in. That day you cried." Her voice was quiet, soothing. "I wanted to come down to you but didn't know what I would say. I could have told you it would be all right but that would be a lie."

Daryl's breathing became heavy and his chest heaved. He was angry with her, watching him in his desperate moments. She had seen them all. He was embarrassed having exposed himself to this stranger. He didn't need her pity, her kind words, her look of concern. He needed time to spin back. He needed those he cared for not to be dead. Not this woman standing opposite him, eyeing him silently in the glow of candle light.

"You saw all that?" His voice was slow and even. "Must have been quite a show." Daryl lay down on the couch, his feet hanging over the armrest.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. She heard the hissing groans of the dead in the street and went to the window. She peaked stealthily behind the blanket and saw a small group had gathered below the fire escape. She turned to Daryl who was sitting up again. "The first one drew a crowd.

Daryl grabbed his empty tin, blew out the candles, and stood next to her by the window. He quietly slid it up and leaned out and flung the tin as far as was possible. It clanged on the ground and rolled along the empty street away from them. The crowd turned toward the noise and made their way over to where it was.

He closed the window and covered it again and watched her silhouette in the dark. He pulled his lighter out his pocket and struck it. In the orange red glow he looked at her face, her high cheekbones and plump lips on a wide downturned mouth before walking to the coffee table and lighting the candles anew.

She remained at the window taking small peaks through the sheets. He lay back on the couch, drumming his fingers on his chest. She could feel his eyes on her and struggled not to turn and face him.

"I guess you're taking first watch," he said behind her. "You can wake me in a few hours then I'll take over."

She turned to him, eyes suspicious. "I'm not sleeping with you."

Daryl let out a small chuckle. "That's what she said." He closed his eyes and fell into an uneasy sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you so much for likes and follows. This is my first fanfic and I am excited to see that you like it.

Thank you also for the kind reviews.

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Chapter 2 -

When he was asleep, lightly snoring on the couch, she blew out the candles and sat with her back against the wall. In her boredom she began to crank her flashlight, it whirred with the spinning of the crank. When done she switched on the built in radio, pulling the antenna from its hold and expanding it. She switched between the static. She did this every so often, hopeful that she would one day hear a voice over the airwaves speaking out to the survivors out there. Telling news of the rest of the country, the rest of the world.

She looked out of the window at the deserted alley. The dead had moved on and they left silence and emptiness in their wake. She hated the night. The nothing it brought. The unending feeling of loneliness it filled her with. Even in this room with the man, Daryl, snoring behind her, she felt so alone. The last woman on earth. Trapped in a never ending nightmare where the dead stood up and wanted to feed off living flesh.

Behind her Daryl moaned and stirred in his sleep. She looked back at him, only able to see an outline of the heaping mound of his body on the couch. He had made no attempt to get near her. No "accidental" touches with his hands, no alluring smiles her way. He barely spoke to her. She decided he was no threat and the way he kept point on their walk to the apartment she knew he was no liability either. He was just broken.

It was hot in the apartment. The open kitchen window did nothing to alleviate the stuffiness. She lifted the window she was at and put her head out. It didn't offer much relief but she no longer felt suffocated.

A sound came out of the darkness. It got louder and grew with its approach. A group began to spill around the corner of a building up the street, their moans collecting into a chorus. They filed up the alley as the walked towards where she and Daryl were, unaware of the living flesh staring down at them from the window. A mass of dead wandering together to nowhere. She looked at their twisted forms, ragged skin hanging off bones that should be underground. In the midst of the crowd was a small child. Her body itched to grab her bow and put it down. She hated seeing the children, small and pitiful, lumbering along in unending torment. So many of them wore sleeping clothes with cute patterns. Once she saw one that wore bunny slippers. This one, a boy, wore cargo shorts and hiking boots. His abdomen had been ripped open where the dead had fed on him. She pulled her head back through the window and let the blanket fall, shutting out the site of them.

Daryl moaned again in his sleep. She went to her rucksack and pulled out a book. She had traveled with several to entertain her when the chance came. She cranked her flashlight and put the beam on and settled into a story she had read hundreds of times before. She lost herself in the words, her mind forming moving pictures of the narration behind her eyes.

"What are you reading?" His voice came soft and sudden in the dark. She jumped, almost having forgotten him in the room with her. She pointed the beam at him and he squinted against the light.

"Breakfast of Champions," he sat up rubbing his face and yawning. She closed the book and put it back in her pack.

"Would you mind if I had some more water?" She handed him the bottle and he drank, his gulps audible. "Can I light a candle?"

"Sure."

He only lit one but it was enough.

"Were you a hunter," she asked, nodding her head to his crossbow.

"Yeah. You?

"No. I got my bow after all this."

He nodded and stared. She looked small against the wall, her knees up in front of her chest. "You sure you don't want to sleep." He got up, handed her the water bottle and looked out the window. "We have about two, three more hours before sun up." He moved back to the couch.

"I'm good." She was tired but she wasn't going to fall asleep with him to watch over her.

Daryl understood her reservations so he didn't push. "Where are you going to go in the morning?"

"No clue. I guess back in the woods."

He didn't like the sound of that. It was bad out there and she shouldn't be alone. Carol had gone out on her own, now she lay beneath the earth in Alexandria next to all the others who had fallen.

"You should come with me. We have a compound."

"You said said things weren't so good with your group." She drank from her bottle until the liquid was gone then dug in her pack for another one. "That doesn't sound too promising."

"Yeah, I guess not." He thought a while. It wasn't too good but it was better than living in the woods and random places during winter. "The thing is, you saved me. And now I want to save you."

"I don't need saving," she scoffed. Who did this guy think he was? She was fine. She had a system of survival. She did not need his help for anything.

"You need walls. We have walls. You need a steady supply of food. We have a farm and animals. You need a group to protect you. We have that group."

"It didn't protect your friend." She regretted saying it the moment it came out. His face darkened, his lips scowled. He reached in his shirt pocket and pulled out his cigarettes and lit one. "I shouldn't have said that. I..."

"Forget it," he cut her off. "My friend died because she left. She was tired of fighting for our group. Tired of the things that came along with the fight, like killing. She took off in the night and got captured. If she had stayed she'd be alive today but she left."

He looked at her as he blew out smoke. Regret lined her face. "Look," he started slowly. "Our group does have problems. We're in a war with another group. This guy Negan wants us to bend to him but we won't bend so we have decided to fight."

"You're taking on the Saviors?" She was shocked and somewhat impressed.

"You know them?"

"Yeah. They're takers. And murderers. I've observed them a few times. Seen them kill people, demand things from them, beat them, and take them. I try to stay far away from places I've seen them."

"Yeah well, we're in their scopes. They ambushed us a few weeks ago on two fronts. One at our compound and one on the road. The compound held but...," he looked away from her, fresh tears in his eyes.

"Your friend?" He nodded.

"They tore down our gate at the compound. Tried to drive through it. Good thing we left our sniper behind to keep watch. She was able to take them out with the help of the others. Right now we're building better defenses on the road so that won't happen again."

They had a sniper and fighters. She was intrigued. She had spent her time running from shadows, scampering around like a rat to avoid detection so she wouldn't have to defend her life from the living and they had weapons and trained people behind their walls.

"A group of us were on the road heading to another group to discuss plans to take Negan on. He stopped us. Lined us all up on the road and brought my friend out, her name was Carol, and he made her get to her knees and he," Daryl choked. His chest heaved and real tears came this time. Hard and strong. He let out whimpers as he cried. He couldn't get the story out. He felt her arm on his shoulder, rubbing them and his back. She was now sitting beside him, trying to soothe him.

She could only imagine what happened next. She didn't know how to console him. For so long she had contempt for those who cried in front her. They cried for a past that was gone, cried for luxuries that had no more meaning. Daryl sat next to her crying for loss. A human connection that would forever be gone. She hadn't felt loss like that for someone since the start. For her sister and her sister's children who never stood a chance. For her neighbors she had known so long and who had cared for her. She never met anyone on the road she formed any bond with. She had felt bad for some of the people she had met and lost, but mostly she felt nothing. Their names and faces melded into one forgettable mold.

His tears slowed and now he breathed deeply in and out as he tried to compose himself. She kept rubbing his back and he took comfort in that. He wiped his face with the back of hand sniffling. He looked at her next to him, her face soft with concern. The glow of the candle danced over her face, making her look more enticing to him. Her hand rubbing him was soothing and warm as were her legs pressed against his. In another time in a different place, if he were a bolder man, he may have tried leaning down towards her and giving her a kiss on her lips that looked so soft set on her mouth. Instead he cleared his throat and moved away from her.

They sat quietly for a long time. Her mind ran between his words, him in the field, and him crying on the couch. Should she take him up on his offer? A part of her was curious. They had a farm and shelter and fighters. They also had a fight brewing with the Saviors who were dangerous. She had seen the destruction they wielded. The dead bodies gagged and bound in the streets, the burned buildings, their members walking around armed and menacing.

She looked over at him as he stared into space. He pulled another cigarette out and lit it. "Can I have one of those?" He took another one out and lit it for her.

"Come back with me," he said after a while. "You'll have a bed to sleep in and not have to worry about anything getting to you at night. Besides, you have to be tired. You won't do well out there exhausted. If you don't like it, you can leave. I won't stop you and will even give you some supplies."

"I'll think about it," was all she said as she took a drag of her cigarette.

* * *

At first light they packed up to go. She closed the window in the kitchen, removed the covering from the windows and packed a sheet in her rucksack. She carried one for herself just in case but added the extra one for him.

Daryl came down the fire escape first and kept watch while she did the same. He then took the ladder and placed it back in the bush. They made their way quickly back to car and got inside, Daryl behind the wheel. She sat back passively and allowed this stranger to take her to someplace unknown.

They drove the empty roads, past untended fields, abandoned farmhouses as the sky got steadily lighter.

"Do you think this is it?" She looked over at him. "Or do you think they're working on a cure?"

"No. This is it," Daryl said. "My group made it to the CDC in Atlanta. There was only one guy there and he said this thing is all over the world. He was in contact with France before they lost communication. Then he blew the place up."

Harley went back to looking out the window. She was glad she never put too much hope in that scenario but still it hurt. Hot tears sprang to her eyes and fell down her face. Daryl looked at her when he heard a sniffle

"Hey, we're gonna make it," he told her. "I'm not giving up again. I guess you could say you gave me hope." She had. She had shown him there were still good people left in the world. He smiled at her as she looked back at him. She gave him a half hearted smile in return.

After a while she asked, "who were you? You know, before?"

Daryl said nothing. He frowned. He never talked about before. He didn't much like himself before. Poor white trash Daryl Dixon. Merle's baby brother. Possible future convict. "Who were you?" He asked instead.

"I was a librarian. Quiet and invisible."

Daryl looked her up and down. He spied her knives strapped to her thigh and ankles, the machete she wore in her belt laying on the floor by her feet. She had safety pins lining the hem of her shirt. Her body lean and muscular. "You don't look like any librarian I've ever seen."

She laughed weakly. "Yeah well, I guess you can say I've changed. No more cardigan sweaters and smart flat shoes."

He eyed her again trying to picture her in her former life.

She stared at his face, hidden by his long hair, his unkempt beard peppered with gray, rough southern accent, a world wary look. "Your turn. Who were you?"

"Trash," he said. "I spent my life running behind my big brother, getting into trouble, making crank, running with lowlifes."

"And hunting." She reached for her water. He looked as she stretched over the seat into the back, her shirt rose up and he spied her flat stomach that tapered down to the slope of her hips.

"I was good at that. Tracking and catching animals. It was peaceful out in the woods. Me and nature."

She handed him the water after she drank and he took it. "You liked bikes too. My dad liked bikes. He was in a club called Road Kings."

She was full of surprises. "No shit?"

"No shit. That's why my name is Harley. My older sister was named Indian. She was a teacher."

Daryl laughed. "How did a biker end up with a teacher and librarian for daughters?"

"The only way we could rebel against our parents was to become squares." She smiled. "Our dad was in and out of jail, for fighting, stealing, running drugs and our mom followed behind. My sister and I didn't much care for their lifestyle. Not that we were saints, I even got caught up with his shit for a time, but in the end, I liked the quiet life."

He was silent after that. She was not what she appeared at all. A quiet librarian. Now a survivor. By herself no less.

"I gotta take a leak. You?" He pulled the car over to the side of the road. "You can go first. I won't watch."

She got out and walked towards the bushes. "You need to keep an eye out, I'll be low, you won't see anything."

This is what she hated most. No toilet, no toilet paper. When she was done she bounced up and down in a futile attempt to dry herself, then pulled her pants up and made her way back to the car. He walked to where she was and she got out her bow to cover him. She could hear his stream hitting the ground and under that she heard one of the dead.

"Shit," she heard Daryl say as he tried to stop.

"I got it," she called out behind him. She nocked her arrow and shot. The creature dropped a few feet from him. "Grab that when you're done."

As he walked back to her, arrow in hand, she noted his confident stride. Strong and sure. She watched his strong arms swing by his sides and felt a flutter in her stomach. Was she attracted to this man who almost let himself die the night before? He handed her the arrow and looked at her with his slanted eyes like he could see into her. _Yes_ , she thought, _I am_.

They got back in the car.

"How many groups were you with before?" Daryl asked.

"Three. All gone now."

"It must have been hard."

"The thing is, all the groups I've been with were filled with weak people. They always needed someone to do for them. Scavenge stores for them, hunt for them, get water for them, fight for them. Then there was always that one leader who became leader not because he could defend or provide but because he could bully." Her face was as bitter as her voice when he looked over at her. "I did what I could for them because they were people and I didn't want to be alone but I had no love for them. The second group I didn't even have pity for them. They ate the meat I brought and drank the water I carried back to camp, warmed themselves by the fires I started, stood behind me as I shot the dead and laughed at me and called me stupid when I climbed into the trees at night for safety."

She sat in an acid silence, staring out the window.

"I watched from a tree as they were hacked," she said after a while. "I was almost glad for it. Who's supposed to do for you when you can't do for yourself? One of them even pointed up at me as he was being stabbed. Tried to give me away even in death."

She turned her body to face his, searching for his reaction but there was none. His eyes were firmly on the road.

"I guess that makes me bad person. I don't know. I don't feel bad. Maybe for a few of them. The ones who did what they could even if they couldn't fight."

He watched her for a second before turning back to the road. "It doesn't make you bad person. It makes you a survivor. You never stole, you never murdered, you never beat people down. You gave and if you couldn't feel for them it's how it is." He shrugged his shoulders. "In this world you have to be willing to push yourself. Do things you never thought you would do, become hard but in your hardness if you don't take advantage of those around you then I say you're a good person."

She looked back out the window and pondered his words. She longed to love those people. To feel like she belonged. To feel like a community, a family.

"I thought I could have a life with them but it never turned out that way. Maybe it's not in the cards for me."

"My group is hard, that's why we survive. You belong with us. You'll fit with us."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N** : Thank you all for reading and for the reviews. SkyeJ: I hope I can keep up the pace. I hate waiting too long for updates too.

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Chapter 3 -

They had been driving along the desolate road when the car jerked and sputtered. Daryl cursed as the engine suddenly shut off and the vehicle coasted to a stop in the middle of nowhere. He tried to turn the engine over but it only whined and then gave nothing more than a sharp click. It was dead.

Daryl estimated they were about ten miles away from Alexandria but couldn't be certain. He hoped they would be able to find another car and continue on towards home. The tar rippled with watery mirages as heat steamed upward on the road. They walked in silence in the middle of the road, squinting against the unbearable brightness.

A foul stench hit them, ripening in the sweltering heat. It was pungent and sharp. What little bit of wind there was picked it up and swirled it around in all directions. Daryl put his hand up for her to stop. He cocked his head as he tried to listen, hearing nothing but the rustle of wheat. They moved forward slowly. They looked around wildly trying to see anything coming but nothing was there except the wretched smell of the dead.

They began to hear the low moans but couldn't tell where it was coming from. They walked cautiously, hearing the sound both in front of and next to them. As they began to walk up a hill the noise grew louder. At the peak a mass of walkers spilled out of the field and from the road beyond, crossing into another field. The walkers raised their rotted heads at Harley and Daryl, hissing and reaching and shuffling towards them, turning like a flock of birds in their direction.

Daryl grabbed Harley's pack off her back, backing away slowly from the herd then hissed at her, "run."

Daryl's breath burned in his lungs as he looked around for a place for them to go. They turned a corner, trying not to run in the fields as the tangle of wheat would slow them down. There could be something lurking in the sea of dead grain, on the ground, waiting to grab the first moving thing to pass it.

They passed rundown farmhouses but could not get far enough ahead of the herd to hide in one of them. They would be surrounded and swarmed, unable to keep the herd out.

Sweat dampened Harley's clothes, her thighs stung from the strain of running. As they rounded another corner she saw their oasis. A large rig parked in the middle of a clearing. "There," she shouted out pointing to it.

Everything seemed to slow, she couldn't run fast enough, the rig seemed to get father away as they tried to pick up the pace. Hot tears stung her eyes as she grasped for the energy to make it.

Harley reached the truck first and began to climb up the front, placing her feet onto the bumper then getting up on the hood then the roof of the cab before scrambling up to the trailer. Daryl followed. As he was pulling himself up on the cab he slipped, slicing his forearm open on the corner of the roof and hissing in pain. Blood spilled from his gash and he gritted his teeth as he made it to the top of the trailer next to her.

They smelled then heard the herd as it surrounded the truck, rocking it slightly as it pushed against the trailer, determined to have the living flesh.

Daryl held tight to his forearm, blood seeping from under his fingers and running down his arm, his face a grimace of pain. Harley took one of the bandanas off her upper arm and tied it tight above his wound. She took her sack and rummaged around before pulling out a bag filled with mini liquor bottles. She pulled out a bottle of vodka, opened it and looked at him, her eyes wild with fear.

"This is going to hurt but it's all I have." Her steady voice a sharp contrast to how terrified she felt.

Daryl nodded and let go of his forearm and bit down hard as she poured the alcohol on the cut. She emptied bottle on him, washing away the blood whose flow had slowed because of the bandana she put on him. The cut wasn't very deep, but it would leave a scar.

He could only imagine what she thought of him. Losing it in the field, crying in the apartment, having the car breakdown. _She thinks I'm weak_ , he thought angrily.

"Talk to me," she said in a low voice as she took her other bandana off. "I need a distraction from this noise." He just stared at her, his eyes cold. "Please Daryl, talk to me."

"Got nothing to say," he shifted uncomfortably.

She searched his face, "did I do something wrong?" He was angry at something. At her? She didn't like it, she didn't deserve it. She had let down her guard for him. Allowed him into her world. Allowed herself to come into his.

"I'm not weak," he said finally. "You think I'm weak but I'm not."

"I never said you were weak," her voice was even.

"You don't have to say it." He spat out. "You watched me all those nights in the field. Picked my drunk ass off the ground to save me. Watched me ball my fucking eyes out this morning."

"Jesus fuck," she hissed. "You think you're weak. You." She clasped her hands into fists and for a moment Daryl was sure she was going to strike him. Her breath was heavy, she would breathe fire at this moment if she could. "Right now I think you're a fucking asshole."

"I'm sorry." He was an asshole. It wasn't her fault he was acting this way. He felt weak. Unable to keep control, to not fall apart. "My people depend on me. I protect them but for a while I couldn't and last night I gave up."

She reached out and held his hand. She was comforting him again and he didn't know how to deal with it. He was the one who gave comfort, made sure people were all right. No one offered him hugs and warm hands. It made him angry to feel so vulnerable but he also felt something else for this woman who freely gave her concern to him.

He stared at her, wanting to say something to show his sorrow of having dragged her into his bullshit. He had become reckless and now he was becoming dangerous.

"I know what it's like to fall apart. To lose control. To sit on the edge of a cliff and be tempted to fall off," she whispered softly.

She got another bottle of alcohol from the baggie. She began to pour the liquid on the other bandana, soaking it. "Hold your arm out," she said moving back to him, sitting up on her knees.

He held out his arm, wincing at the pain. "I want it tight but not enough to cut off circulation." She began to wrap him up with the soaked bandana with hands that shook slightly. "Tell me if it's too much."

"It's fine," he answered her.

"What shows did you like as a kid?" She looked at Daryl's confused face. "Let me guess, Dukes of Hazzard? I liked Dukes too," she said as she continued to wrap his arm. "My favorite though was Benji."

He gave her a quizzical look.

"You know, the show about the dog that use to travel around and help people?"

He watched her work. Her face concentrating on the task at hand. "That was a stupid fucking show," Daryl said. "The A-Team was boss and Night Rider."

"Hold this," she indicated the end of the bandana now wrapped firmly around him and he did. She took one of the safety pins off her shirt and pinned the end down. "How's that?" She looked up at him, her dark brown eyes beautiful in the sunlight.

"Good. Thank you."

"No problem." She sat down across from him. "I used to watch Dynasty with my grandmother. She would get really drunk and start cussing out the TV. Those were good times."

"Your grandma drank?"

"She was a funny drunk. She would come home from work, take out her smokes and get her drank on. Then she would start cussin'."

"My parents drank. And fought. And beat me and my brother." He wasn't even aware of what he was saying until he said it.

"That's terrible." Harley wasn't expecting that. The look on his face said he wasn't expecting it either.

"Sorry."

"No, it's fine. What happened to them?"

"My mom died when I was young, house fire. Dad," Daryl paused. "He got put down by his brother."

She nodded her head slowly, "my mom died with a needle in her arm. My dad was in prison when all this went down. I guess he's dead now."

A silence fell between them. Harley pulled two bed sheets from her pack and they sat under them, held out over their bodies like tents, trying their best to deal with the scorching rays.

The walkers continued to push against the truck and fill the air with their fervent moans. Daryl and Harley swayed a little with the motion of the truck lost in their own thoughts.

"Talk to me some more. I haven't had a conversation in a long time."

Daryl could see the nervousness in her eyes. He was feeling nervous himself. The sounds of the dead below were unsettling. The pushing against the truck and the screech every now and then of bones dragging on the metal pinched his nerves.

He started telling her stories of the trouble he'd get into as a kid. Getting lost in the woods and how he ended up wiping his ass with poison oak. Getting caught stealing from the corner store and as a punishment being made to rub the store owner's mother's feet which were the most disgusting things he'd ever seen, making him never want to steal again. Being whupped by a neighbor for letting their dog loose because he felt bad for it as it was always crying.

Daryl felt good, watching her laugh or show concern for his tales. She told tales of her own. Mostly about her grandmother who raised her and her sister because her parents were constantly in and out of prison. Her grandmother never called her or her sister by their names, instead she called them Bad Ass Number One and Bad Ass Number Two. Harley had tears in her eyes as she laughed telling the story of how her grandmother would occasionally walk onto the porch drunk and half naked to cuss out the neighborhood kids.

He was amazed at how similar their lives were as kids, filled with dysfunction and abuse. She had ended up on the right path though. He hadn't.

The rocking of the truck stopped and they both got quiet. The walkers had calmed, forgetting what they were there for. Their loud groans had faded to low hums buzzing in the heat of the day.

Harley's face had become pensive once more. She traced circles onto the hot metal of the trailer, her head down, the sheet wrapped around her head and shoulders like a veil. Her wide smiles and infectious laughter were gone, as if they never existed.

He stared at her, her shoulders slumped under the sheet. He knew that she would not be coming back to Alexandria with him and the thought made him sad. He wouldn't blame her if she wanted to rid herself of him. He had served to reinforce her idea that being around others was dangerous for her. Perhaps she was right. But what would she do in the coming years? Food was running low and canned food wasn't good indefinitely. How long could she survive without real shelter and people to help protect her?

"When this first happened I was sure I would go mad," her voice was barely audible. Daryl scooted forward so he could hear her better. "Some days I just want to throw my head back and scream."

"This isn't it," he whispered to her.

She looked at him, impassive. "No, this isn't it." She looked out over the clearing for a while then turned back to him. "When it gets dark we need to get one of those things from down there. Hope you're fine wearing guts."

She was still saving him. He trusted her without any doubt. She couldn't survive this long alone unless she was clever and resourceful.

He nodded. "I was thinking the same thing."

"I guess we can roll off the front and hope they don't notice we're not dead." That was the part she wasn't too sure about.

"Naw. We can distract them with the alcohol." Harley gave him a puzzled look. "Cut strips of the sheets and stuff 'em in the bottle then light it and throw it. A fire cocktail."

She nodded her head slowly, "then that's the plan."

"How long you been alone?"

"Since last spring."

"That's over a year. Don't you get scared?"

"All the time," she lay down on her side on the trailer, a part of the sheet under her and the other part she held over her face, blocking out the sun. "All the fucking time."

"Are you scared now?"

"I feel better with you here." She wasn't alone.

"Even after all this? After the mess I caused? You could have died."

Harley looked up at Daryl, guilt lined his features. Had she not saved him or accepted his offer, she would not have been in that crappy car that broke down mere yards from a swarm. She would have slept in her safe spot and...

 _And what_? _Could you have slept soundly after watching him get torn apart on that field_? No, she wouldn't have.

"I guess it's just fate. This is where I'm supposed to be, trapped on an abandoned big rig with you surrounded by the dead." She gave him a soft smile. "I'm not dying today Daryl."

He lit a cigarette and looked around. "No, I guess not. I'm gonna make certain of that."

She closed her eyes and mumbled, "don't let me fall off."

"I won't." Daryl fiddled with the bandana around his forearm and took off the one she had used as a tourniquet and stuffed it in his pocket. The long cut stung from the alcohol soaked cloth around it.

He watched her in wonder. This librarian turned warrior of the fallen world. She headed out on her own to survive alone and yet she risked everything to help him, a complete stranger. She had let down her guard for him and let it down even further to trust him. He sighed, thinking about her trust for him that was evidently not deserved.

Clouds moved across the early afternoon sky and began to gather casting a shadow on them. It looked as though rain would be coming, maybe sometime tonight.

She started to turn her body but he placed his arm around her, holding her by the small of her back to keep her in place. As soon as she seemed steady he removed his arm even though he wanted to keep it there. He had already fucked up, it wouldn't do for her to wake up in his embrace no matter how much he liked her being there.

He continued to watch Harley. There was something sweet and youthful about her face although he figured she was older than she looked. Their conversations about TV shows from the 80's told him that. Her plump lips protruded out slightly as she slept and he was drawn to them. They looked so soft.

He lay down on his side, facing her. He lightly brushed the skin on her arm with his forefinger before pulling back. This wasn't him. He would never touch a woman like that, especially one he didn't even know. Then why was he doing it and fighting himself to stop from doing it again? Nothing was making sense since he traveled outside the gates of Alexandria yesterday evening.

He lay a long time thinking random thoughts when Harley starting making noise beside him. Her body began to jerk and her moaning became more of a stifled plea. He put his arm back around her in case she rolled over.

The sound of the dead had invaded her dreams. She was surrounded by them, backed into a wall, their mouths opening and closing, exposing rotted teeth and putrid tongues. They were getting closer to her. Their paper thin skin brushing up against her, enveloping her in their stench as they covered her, pulling her flesh from her arms, her face.

Harley eyes shot open. She didn't know where she was and there was someone there holding her. She began to push away, the low moans of the dead all around her. The grip around her tightened and she almost cried out when she heard a low voice.

"Hey," Daryl said. "Hey it's me. It's me."

Her eyes focused on his face and she stopped fighting. Daryl, the man she pulled out the field last night. The broken man who cried for the loss of his friend. He still had his arm around her waist, holding her tight, his face a mask of concern. She remembered they were on a trailer of a rig, surrounded.

"You okay now?" He asked. "You fully awake?"

She nodded her head and he slowly removed his arm from her and suddenly she missed the feel of it. She crawled to her bag and pulled the water free from it and took a drink. She handed it to him and he took it. She dug around more and grabbed a tin. It was a large can of tuna. She got out the spoons and moved back to him. She opened the pop top can and handed him a spoon.

"It's not the greatest but its food."

They lay on their stomachs and began to eat, Daryl making sure he had one spoonful for every two of hers. Making sure she got all she needed before he took from her.

"Before it gets dark we need to get one of those guys from down there," she spooned the fish in her mouth.

He nodded. "I should grab one soon so they have time to settle."

"Then we distract them and walk the hell out of here." She took another spoonful of tuna. "Daryl, you can eat. I don't need much food anymore. I won't be angry."

He tried to hide the shame of being caught but failed. "I feel like shit. You save me and I go and almost get you killed and now stuck on some truck with barely any options. I wouldn't feel right eating all your food too."

She studied his face, he was unable to meet her eyes. "Tonight you're going to have to save me because there is no way I can drag a body up here or throw a fire bomb far enough to make a difference." She shoved the last of the tuna at him. "Eat, you're gonna need your strength."

"Except you wouldn't be here if it weren't for me."

"Well, you know, accentuate the positive and all that shit," she said dryly

* * *

Daryl lay on his stomach on the hood of the truck, Harley's machete in one hand. She was standing on the trailer making noise to draw most the walkers her way so he wouldn't be overwhelmed by them. He chose a man whose hair hung in thin wisps from his jaundice colored head. The skin on his lower jaw was gone along with half his top lip. His brown teeth gnashed and his dead, whitish blue eyes looked at Daryl as he grabbed and growled desperate for living flesh. He wasn't too far gone that Daryl feared him falling apart before he could drag him on top of the cab.

Daryl grabbed the walker by the wrist with one hand and swung the machete into its head. It slumped forward and he began to drag the body up, keeping an eye on the groping hands trying to get him.

When Harley saw him dragging the body on the trailer she sat back down. The dead below were in a frenzy, the trailer rocked at their feverish attempt to get to her.

She laid out five liquor bottles making sure all were 80 proof and began tearing strips from one of the sheets. Daryl put his arm on hers and pointed ahead. More of the dead were stumbling into the clearing.

He pushed her gently back and they both lay flat against the trailer, hearing the new smack and bang of undead hands against the steel of the tuck and a new accord of moaners to join the fray below them.

The noise was getting to her. Sitting so long in it scratched roughly in her head, making her grit her teeth. The urge to scream started moving from the tips of her toes on a steady course to her throat. She reached over and grabbed Daryl's hand. If he could keep his wits about him she would too.

"They'll settle soon," he looked at her, her eyes squeezed shut, a pained look on her face. The growls and moans made an unholy din around them. He knew she was trying to keep calm in the midst of this madness. He rubbed his thumb along the top of her hand to reassure her, to ease her tension.

He began to whisper out his tales about Atlanta. How he and Merle met the group on the outskirts of the city, being over run by a herd, finding Hershel's farm and then the prison. Harley listened. He had always been on the run but he had his people. They fought hard and strong for each other. He never went into detail about the deaths of his friends, he merely said 'they didn't make it' and quickly moved on.

The furor below began to die off as the sky got steadily darker around them. Harley figured they had been up there almost ten hours. They both sat up and watched the sun slowly start to sink in the distance. She began to cut holes in the sheets and they waited in silence for the night to come.

As dusk set in Daryl told her to get her gear together. The walkers below were still docile and they both made a conscious effort to be as quiet as possible. Harley stood and put her machete back in her belt and hooked her quiver to her. She slung her bow across her shoulder and slipped on her sheet. Daryl offered to carry her rucksack. It was the least he could do for her after all she had done for him.

As the last bit of light remained Daryl cut open the walker and they began spreading the innards on the front of their sheets. Harley had done this many times before but it still made her sick. She tried desperately not to gag and almost succeeded but as Daryl spread the intestines on her back and hung a string of them around her shoulders she fell to her knees near the edge and dry heaved.

Once it was dark Daryl soaked the strips of cloth in alcohol and stuffed the small bottles with them. He took the first bottle and lit the makeshift wick and once it flamed up he sent it hurtling through the air a good distance from them. Harley watched the beauty of the orange red flame streak across the darkened sky. The dead watched too and a few began to break off. She handed him another bottle and he sent it flying towards the first. Then he threw a third.

Where the bottles landed a small fire started in the dry husks of wheat. They watched the herd move towards it mesmerized.

They made their way down the front of the truck and slid onto the ground. The moon tried to break through the clouds but only left a dim glow in the distance, not enough to hit the earth. Daryl reached out and took her hand and they began their slow walk out of the clearing towards the road.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N** : Thank you for the follows and likes. I put a small homage to the Walking Dead Game in here. Hope you enjoy.

 **Warning** : A little bit of smut, not too much though ;-)

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Chapter 4 -

Nothing moved in the house. Daryl handed Harley her bag and walked to the front door then banged loudly on it and stood back, his crossbow ready, listening. They waited a long time before he broke the glass of the window on the side of the house and helped her climb in. She took out her flashlight and swept the beam around. The house hadn't been ransacked. It stood mute, trapped in time, only thick layers of dust told the tale of neglect.

She let him in through the front. They took off their sheets and put them over the railing of the porch. Inside they took the chairs, still tucked under the dining room table, and put them in front of the windows to hinder anyone who may come in.

They moved to the kitchen and checked the cupboards for food and found a few tins. Harley started shoving them in her sack, anxious to head upstairs. She saw a small bottle of unopened olive oil and grabbed it while Daryl grabbed a can opener.

Daryl blocked the staircase with the dining table and laid glasses, plates and silverware on the first few steps to make noise, acting as an early warning system.

The second floor had one bathroom, three bedrooms and a linen closet. One of the bedrooms belonged to a young boy. His sports trophies stood on a shelf. Scattered about were books and toys, the bed unmade. Harley pulled the pillows from it and closed the door behind her. The second bedroom looked like a craft room. She decided to check for something useful in the morning before they left. Daryl pulled sheets and a comforter out of the linen closet and toothpaste, soap and shampoo from the bathroom, stuffing them in a pillowcase. Harley grabbed leave in conditioner she found in the medicine cabinet along with first aid supplies and brand new toothbrushes and a few rolls of toilet paper she found in the cabinet under the sink.

The master bedroom had an uncovered balcony which Daryl said would be a good place to collect water when it started to rain.

After raiding the rooms they headed to the attic. Harley shone a light as Daryl slowly pulled the string to release the trapdoor. The ladder slid down with a thud and they stood by the wall listening. In the distance they heard a soft scraping. It wasn't getting closer but was contained to one area and every so often there was a weak thud.

"Must be stuck or disabled," Daryl said to her. "You wanna stay here while I check?"

"No, I'll come too. You be ready."

They dropped their things and Daryl held his bow ready, Harley had her machete in one hand, the flashlight in the other.

The attic was narrow and had a low vaulted ceiling. There were a few boxes stacked along the wall but was otherwise empty. Harley stayed close behind Daryl and swept the light along the room until they found the source of the noise. On the floor towards the back was a dead child on a blanket. His face gaunt, his limbs skeletal. He reached towards them weakly and then started to rise on shaky legs before falling back to the floor.

Harley knew it was the boy whose room she took the pillows from. His pitiful form crying out for them, his eyes gaunt in their sockets. He looked to have been around ten. Next to the blanket were three empty tins of food.

"He must have come up here to hide," Harley whispered, unable to take her eyes off him. A child alone during the end of the world hiding in his attic, scared, not knowing where his parents were, with only three cans of food.

The sadness of it all hit her and her eyes stung as tears formed. Without warning she let out a an audible sob and her tears flowed. "He must have starved up here," she said, her voice thick.

Daryl got rigid. Her crying at the sight of this child reminded him of Beth crying at the sight of a child's shoe on the train tracks. He walked up to the creature and slowly wrapped the pitiful thing in the blanket it was on then he took and arrow from his crossbow and pushed it through it's head. He picked up the remains and walked down the attic ladder with it, taking it to the bathroom and laying in the tub.

He could hear Harley crying softly above him, he collected their things and went back up through the trapdoor. She stood against the wall, the beam of her light pointing down, shaking. He went to her and pulled her into his arms, it was his turn to give her comfort. He told her it was okay and kissed her forehead and squeezed her to him.

* * *

A curtain of hard rain fell down. When it started Daryl had gotten up to take Harley's water bottles to the balcony but before doing so cut the bar of soap he got in half and handed one piece to her. "I don't know about you, but I need to get the smell of walker guts off me." They grabbed up shower supplies and she pulled the bottle of oil she got from the kitchen from her bag and they headed downstairs.

He had pulled two towels from the linen closet and left them on the bed as he went outside. Harley watched from the doorway and saw Daryl place the open water bottles down to collect water. She took off her wrist guards and tossed them on the bed and took a deep breath before heading outside to join him.

They stood on opposite sides of the balcony and stripped off their clothes, two silhouettes in the dark, the moon having been swallowed up the clouds. They used the soap to clean their clothes as best they could and then laid them flat on the ground to be pummeled by the rain.

It felt good, the cool water beating into her skin, washing days of filth off her and god knows what out of her hair. When she was done bathing she leaned on the railing letting the rain massage her back as she brushed her teeth, moaning at the sensation of being able to properly clean them after years.

Daryl tried his best not to watch her as she showered next to him. While he couldn't make out details of her body, he could see her feminine shape, lithe and curvy. He glimpsed her rubbing soap along her breasts and saw them rise as she lifted them to clean underneath. He glimpsed her as she shampooed her hair, her back arched and her chest facing upwards. And he stared as she bent over the railing, her rear end pushed out, it's roundness prominent in the darkness.

Harley felt his eyes on her in the dark. When she would look at him his face was turned from her but she knew he had been watching. She wasn't bothered. She knew he would do nothing more than look. His looking gave her a strange thrill. As she leaned on the railing she saw him out the side of her eye standing still and staring, his toothbrush unmoving in his mouth. When she turned her head to him he was no longer looking her way, but out at the black space in front of him, brushing vigorously.

The wind whipped, chilling their wet bodies but still they stood there, enjoying the natural bath. Thunder rumbled in the distance and grew louder and closer with time before streaks of lightening lit the sky up in a white blaze. They went in when it got so bright they could see clear across the fields.

Harley rubbed oil on her wet skin before dabbing it dry. She rubbed the oil and leave in conditioner in her hair.

Daryl watched her openly as he leaned against the door jamb, unable to see anything but a shadow of her in the near pitch black, but still aroused at seeing her rubbing her hands along her body. He watched her wrapped the towel around her as the lightening flashed, then she put her wrist protectors back on.

After making their way back Daryl pulled the string for the attic up when the door shut so no one would be able to pull the trapdoor down.

He turned the flashlight off as Harley took off her towel and wrapped the sheet around her under her arms and then wrapped the towel around her wet hair. She lay on the makeshift bed they made with the comforter and pillows.

Daryl lit the oil lamp they found and turned the flame low. He wrapped his sheet over his towel before taking it off. Harley studied his chest, lean and strong with thin tufts of hair below his belly button. She could see the imprint of his manhood outlined by the thin cotton of the sheet and cast her eyes down when she realized she was staring too long at it. He pretended not to notice her gaze as he sat down next to her, trying to ward off the first hints of an erection.

He stared at her sienna skin glowing in the light of the lamp, warm and smooth and inviting. "You okay with me being here?"

She looked at his face, at the gentle expression he was giving her. "Yes."

He lay down and they both stared at the ceiling. The small attic window was open allowing fresh air in and cooled the hot space. The rain had slowed a little but still beat down heavily on the roof.

"Daryl, what's your full name?" Her voice was quiet in the dim light.

It was a question he hadn't been asked in a long time and one he didn't expect. "Daryl Earl Dixon."

"Where are you from?"

"Boyette Georgia."

"How old are you?"

"Forty-three."

She turned her head to look at him then raised her hand and stroked the hair on his face. She didn't know why she did it only that she wanted to touch him and it seemed to be the most benign place to do it.

"Yeah, it's getting pretty gray," he said, a small flutter running through his stomach at her touch. "What about you?"

"My name is Harley Bessie Glinton, I'm from Fairland Virginia and I'm younger than you."

He chuckled. "I take that to mean pushing 40. Young girls don't hide their age."

A broad smile crossed her face, "I'm thirty-nine." She smacked him lightly on the arm, "asshole."

He turned on his side and looked at her profile. He was acutely aware they were laying side by side completely naked, with nothing but sheets as a barrier. He wondered how she would react if he tried to kiss her. He had never made a move on a woman before, unable to read their cues, never feeling good enough for them. She turned her doe eyes to him and rolled on her side to face him.

"Can I ask you a question?" She nodded and he lifted her hand up and rubbed the wrist protector. "Why do you wear this."

Her face got somber and she averted his eyes, "I got injured."

She didn't want to talk about it, it showed on her face and the way she got so quiet. He let go of her hand and stared at her now sad face for a short while. He knew he didn't want to part ways with her in the morning, he needed more time with her. "Are you gonna still come with me? To my community?"

"Yeah," her voice was tired.

"Good. I'd worry about you out there alone."

She smiled, "I liked talking with you today. I haven't talked for a long time, especially to someone I didn't want to strangle."

Daryl let out a small laugh, "I think you wanted to strangle me. I would have deserved it."

"I was tempted to slap you. But it wasn't because of your conversation."

"I was kind of a dick." He clenched his hands into fists, he wanted to unwrap her sheet and look at her, touch her skin. When she turned to get on her stomach her shoulder brushed against his chest and he almost groaned out loud. She lay facing him, her head resting on her folded arms.

"Did you get out of Georgia a lot before?"

"Never left before we came here."

"I've been abroad. My book club traveled to Ghana for ten days and spent four in London." She eyed him. "You'd like Ghana. We saw hippos and monkeys, elephants. Great beaches. The food was good. It was really interesting. I don't think you'd have liked London."

"Why not?"

"Too crowded. It's a great city, good pubs and fantastic museums but the number of people on the streets was too much. I think it'd piss you off."

Was he really that easy for her to read? Could she see him struggling not to do anything that would make her uncomfortable like stroke her skin, lean down and kiss her along her back, pull her into his arms? Did she notice him watching her on the balcony in the dark? If she looked towards his waist she would notice his semi erection pressing against the sheet, how would she feel when she saw it?

He also turned on his stomach, not wanting to risk her noticing his arousal for her. Her eyes looked heavy as she watched him, her face serene and pleasant. "You should get some sleep, I'll keep first watch."

"I should put some clothes on. I have some in my bag, not sure how clean they are," she rubbed her eyes as she spoke.

 _Please don't_ , Daryl thought but said nothing.

"Would it be wrong if I didn't?" She asked, yawning behind her hand.

"You're safe with me," he told her. "Whatever you're comfortable with."

She nodded and began to close her eyes. "Daryl, what you said earlier, about being trash?"

"Yeah," his heart thudded in his chest, having no idea what to expect her to say next.

"You're not trash. You're a good man." She opened her eyes and looked at him. "People don't become better in this world, they get worse. You don't live through all this and grow a conscience, become trustworthy, decent, and kind. That was in you from before. You are not trash Daryl. Not then and not now."

He didn't know how to react. No one ever told him anything like that before, told him he was never trash. All his life he felt low and undeserving, hiding behind his shield of being a badass, an outlaw. In one day she saw through all that and more importantly, let him know.

She stroked the hair on his face again then turned her back to him and fell asleep, leaving him to run her words to him over and over in his mind.

* * *

Daryl had watched her sleep, her naked body wrapped tight in the thin sheet. He could see the provocative outline of her pert behind pressing against the sheet that indented slightly into the crease between her cheeks. He drummed his fingers against his chest, fighting the yearning that kept growing. He wanted to cup his hand around her bottom, feel the softness of it, feel it give under his fingers as he squeezed, stroke the lush curve of it.

He turned out the light and lay rigid next to her. He couldn't see her anymore but having her so close, so naked next to him was making him hungry with desire for her.

 _You're not trash Daryl. You're a good man_. Her words ran through his head. He could still feel her hand on his beard. Still see the soft smiles she gave him.

He let out a deep sigh and stood up and looked out the window. He forced himself to focus. The night was quiet, the rain had stopped and muggy heat was beginning to form. Nothing stirred below and no sounds from walkers drifted through the air.

There was nothing but stillness and a naked woman asleep behind him.

A few hours later he heard the whir of her flashlight crank then saw the low beam from it. He heard her walk up to him then felt her delicate hand on his bare shoulders. He thrilled at her touch and bit his lips in frustration knowing he could do nothing to sate this feeling for her that was pounding inside him.

She began to move her finger along the scars on his back. "Your dad?" She moved from scar to scar, tracing them with her fingertips, trailing shivers down his spine in their wake.

"Yeah."

"I'll take it from here." He nodded weakly and made his way over to their blanket. He touched the warm spot where she had lain and fell into an uneasy sleep wishing she was still there.

Harley watched out the window for a while straining to see into the darkness. Her ear pricked when she heard some of the dead in the distance. Her body became tense listening to them and relaxed as the sound faded.

She went back to their "bed" and pulled her book out and read next to him. He lay facing her as she read on her stomach. She moved closer to him so she could feel his warm breath on her skin. He gave her strange comfort.

When he gave that boy peace he was so gentle with him. He had a soft heart he hid behind his rough exterior. She was certain not many people saw the side of him she had seen. He was so guarded, keeping his feeling hidden deep, concealed behind his penetrating eyes.

Harley tried to reason with herself. She did not belong here with him. She should not be following him to another group. She functioned better on her own without anyone depending on her, dragging her down. This was not a logical move. It was based purely on emotion.

She was attracted to his pain, his sweetness, his strength. She didn't feel alone with him. Not just physically alone but emotionally alone. He would take care of her if given the chance. She wanted someone who was capable of taking care of her.

It grew lighter outside beyond the window. The dawn crept up slowly as she lay on her side listening to Daryl sleep. A few times during the night she had pressed the palm of her hand against his chest and felt his chest rise and fall under it. At one point he woke up and took her hand in his and held it against him before drifting back off to sleep, letting her hand fall. She didn't touch him again after that, afraid the he would wake up for real next time and she'd have to explain herself. What would she say; _I just needed to feel you_? Was that normal? She wasn't even sure what normal meant anymore but that was not it.

When the attic had sufficient light to no longer deny the day she decided it was time to wake him. She didn't want to be rough so she began to stroke his back and leaned close to his ear and whispered his name. He moaned a little but did nothing else. She stroked his back again, softly and moved closer to him, a shiver tracing its way up her spine, and whispered his name once more.

It was so sudden. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into him. She felt his erection pushing into her pubis as he put his face in her neck and began to slowly kiss it, his hand sliding to her backside, rubbing it firmly. He gyrated against her and sucked hard on her neck, making her stifle a moan of pleasure.

She should be offended or afraid of what he was doing not bursting with excitement, a wetness growing between her legs, her nipples hardening hoping he would do more. She looked at his face that was traveling along her chest and saw his eyes were still closed as he squeezed her ass hard before running his hand between her legs.

Harley let out a startled cry and Daryl stopped moving. He slowly opened his eyes, focusing on where he was. A look of horror crossed his face and he let go of her and scrambled for distance between them.

"I-I-I," he stammered, his face turning red. "I'm so sorry, I didn't...I wasn't..." he couldn't get any words out.

"It's okay. You didn't mean to I know," Harley tried to placate him, assuage the guilt that covered his face.

"I was...I was," he stammered some more. _I was dreaming of you, bent over and crying my name_.

Daryl stood up and almost ran for the trapdoor of the attic, kicking it open and disappearing down the ladder.

She waited, counting slowly to one hundred before she gathered their things and made her way down to the second floor of the house. She rested their belongings on the ground and went to get her clothes from the balcony.

When she entered the master bedroom he was coming through the door to outside with her clothes in his hands. He gave her a quick glance and dropped her garments on the bed and mumbled, "they're still a bit damp," then walked past her, his eyes on the ground.

* * *

Daryl had found a truck in the detached garage. He had given it a close inspection and determined it would get them to Alexandria. They went about stripping the house of everything they could use. They took all the linens from the closet; pots and pans, cutlery and all food items from the kitchen; all the toiletries from the bathroom; the sewing machine and sewing kit from the craft room and toys and books from the dead boy's room.

Daryl hadn't looked at her once since she woke him this morning. He drove down the road in determined silence, his jaw clenched and eyes never straying from the road.

She was annoyed by him. They should say something clever to one another and let the incident die. He didn't purposely accost her, giving her the best erotic moment she'd had in years. She pondered telling him that as she stole glances at his rigid face.

 _This is bullshit_ , she thought. While she appreciated that he felt bad about touching her, his ignoring her made her feel...what? _Hurt_ , she admitted. She was hurt by his inability to face her.

"I touched you last night," she blurted out before she could think about what she was saying.

The truck came to a sudden stop. Daryl turned to her, his eyes wide. "What?"

"I touched you last night," she repeated, more quiet now. "I put the palm of my hand against your chest. Like this." She leaned forward and placed her palm on him. She could feel the rapid rhythm of his heart under her hand.

His face contorted in an expression she couldn't decipher. He reached over and held her by the back of the head, rubbing his thumb gently along her cheek. He moved close to her and she thought, hoped, he was going to kiss her. All he did was stare silently at her. "Let's go home," he said after a while.

She nodded and he began to drive again.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 -

The cars were placed like a maze on the side of the road and on the road itself were two cars facing each other. Ahead she saw the tops of buildings behind a tall wall. "There it is," he said. On the wall she saw someone keeping guard.

Daryl stopped the truck and turned to her, "I'm gonna need your help."

They got out the truck and went to the two cars in the road. "You steer and I'll push." Harley got in the first car and Daryl pushed it forward between the space left for it in the maze of cars. She did the same with the other one. After he drove the truck past them, they placed the cars back.

They drove up to the gate and Daryl held his head out the window, "let me in," he shouted up at the guard.

A red-headed man stood on top of the wall. "What happened to you?" He asked down to Daryl but his eyes were on her.

"Got held up by a herd." Daryl pointed at her, "this is Harley."

The man nodded his head at someone below him and the gate slid open. They drove inside to nothing she had expected. There were houses lining the clean streets. Nice, two story with wrap around porches. In the center was a lake around which children were playing, their laughter filling the air.

They parked the truck along the wall near the gate and got out.

A dark haired man walked angrily up to them. "Where the hell were you?" He drawled sharply. He saw Harley and scowled. "And who is this?"

Harley and the man stared each other down, his hand twitched at his side and his face was a mask of anger. She turned away and walked off a few feet from them. This wasn't her fight. He and Daryl would have to hash this out on their own. She didn't want to hear them arguing about her. She watched the children playing in the distance while Daryl spoke with the man.

"You need to calm down," Daryl growled at Rick.

"I need to calm down? I need to calm down? What is going on with you. Every night you disappear, every day you walk around in a daze. We all miss Carol. We're all hurt, but now is not the time to fall apart. These people are counting on us. On me. On you." Rick's voice was low but it was angry. "Now you disappear for two nights then bring this woman here? Who the hell is she?"

"She saved my life. We've been holed up until we could get back. I asked her to stay."

Rick looked incensed. "You asked her to stay? How do you know this wasn't set up by Negan's crew? She could be here to fuck us on the inside."

"I know she's not." He didn't want to explain it was impossible for Negan to set up the way he and Harley met. He couldn't have set a herd loose into the field where Harley had watched him nightly go through his grief.

"Oh, you know?" Rick spat it at him. "And where the hell are we supposed to put her? Who's going to take the risk of having her in their home?"

Daryl was getting pissed now. He had trusted Rick for years, followed him even when he questioned some of his decisions and for one moment Rick couldn't do the same for him.

"She'll stay with me." Daryl stared at Rick then threw his hands up frustrated. "I'm here for you. I'm here. I've been going through some shit but it's done now." He eyed his friend, his brother, and Rick's face relaxed. Yeah, Rick knew what is was to go through shit and lose it for a while. "She's been out there a long tme alone. She could be an asset to us."

"I don't like it. I hope you know what you're doing." Rick looked over at the woman with the rucksack and bow on her back. She was silently looking around the compound. He looked back at Daryl and sighed. "Yeah, okay. She's your responsibility. Anything go wrong it's on you." Rick pushed his hand through his hair. "Look, Jesus says he's going to take me to meet another group tomorrow to see if they'll fight with us. I'm gonna need you here to help protect these people. Can I count on you? Are you here with us?"

Daryl nodded. "I'm back, I'm here for you. For them."

Rick patted Daryl on the arm and walked away. Daryl walked slowly up to Harley and tapped her on the shoulder. She turned to him with unsure eyes.

"Should I go?"

"Naw. Rick's just on edge. Everyone is. This way. My place is over there."

They walked around the lake towards the townhouses. Daryl had taken the small one bedroom on the end a while back. He liked having his own place, no pressure to interact with anyone, a place where he could be by himself in peace.

She put her bag down by the front door and looked around. He had a spacious living room that had a high ceiling. It was furnished with a couch, loveseat and arm chair. Against the wall was a large entertainment center that held bookshelves, a large television, and stereo. On the other side of the unit was a nice dining room that opened up to a well appointed kitchen.

Harley walked around, touching the furniture, turning the lights on and off, and looking at the appliances in the kitchen. She opened the fridge and put her head in, feeling the cool on her skin. She turned the water on at the sink and almost cried when she felt the hot water on her finger tips.

"If you need to wash some clothes there's a washing machine in the room behind the kitchen. You can hang them to dry on the balcony." Daryl watched her look around, not certain what she was feeling. "I'll give you a shirt if you want until your clothes dry. It's so hot it won't take long."

Harley sat down at the dining table, she was overwhelmed suddenly. Her groups had camped out in woods, lived under tents and now she lived in trees and abandoned houses. She never thought she'd see something like this again. She felt like she had stepped into a portal to the past.

He stood by her, trying to figure out what was going on with her. He didn't know what to expect from her but he didn't expect sadness.

"Yeah, okay," she said after a while. "I think I'll do that. Wash my clothes."

"This way." He walked upstairs and they entered the bedroom. She sat on the edge of his bed and watched as he pulled a large t-shirt from his drawer.

"Hope this works. I don't have any shorts but it's long enough." He handed the garment to her. "The bathroom with a shower is behind me, there's also a toilet downstairs opposite the laundry room."

She nodded, clutching tight to the shirt. "This is a nice place," she said finally. "This is worth fighting for. Something good can be done here and if it can spread, all the struggle will be worth it in the end."

"Yeah." He looked at her sitting on his bed and thought how easy it would be to push her back on it and lay on her. He cleared his throat, chastising himself for his thoughts. "I'm gonna head out for a bit. See what needs to be done. If you need anything just poke around to see if you find it. This is now your place too."

They watched each other. The sun came through the windows and streams of light lined the floor. There was something happening between them but neither knew what it was. She didn't want him to leave and he didn't want to leave her. He could almost feel her loneliness. It lined her face and sat heavy in her presence. He wanted to give her something but couldn't name what it was he wanted to give. She had saved him, comforted him, and allowed him to just be and he wanted to do the same for her.

He moved towards her and looked down at her, "I really hope you like it here. I hope you stay."

She said nothing. She hadn't been with anyone for so long. Now here was someone who wanted her to be safe and comfortable and not out on her own. Someone who wanted to do for her.

She nodded at him again, his eyes searching her face for something. He gave a weak smile and walked out.

* * *

Daryl went back to the truck and drove it to Olivia's and helped her bring everything inside. She saw his arm and had him remove the bandana and set about rubbing antibiotic cream on the wound and taping a strip of gauze over it. She then started inventorying the items from the farmhouse.

He went to look for Tobin to ask him where to put the truck. He found the large man at home, sitting alone on his porch swing smoking. A routine he had taken to since Carol left. Tobin told Daryl to leave the truck in his driveway, he would figure out where to place it outside the gates later. Daryl felt bad for the man. Tobin was also deeply suffering the loss of Carol. She hadn't been in his life long, but she had touched him profoundly and the pain was worn on his face and showed in the slump of his shoulders and in the listless way he spoke and moved.

Lastly Daryl made his way over to Rick's place to find out more about what was happening with their plan.

* * *

 _They came back, broken, from the attack on the road by Negan. They were short three members. Maggie and Glen had decided to stay at the Hilltop to have the baby, to keep them out of the line of fire. Carol came back with them wrapped in a sheet soaked in her blood._

 _It was after Carol's service that Rick led Daryl down to the prison cell Morgan had made. Sitting with his back againt the wall, a scowl of defiance on his face was Dwight._

 _Daryl had stared silently through the bars, strangely calm. This is the man he should have killed in the burned forest. This is the man he should have killed on the tracks. This is the man he should kill now._

 _"Give me the key," he calmly said to Rick._

 _"I can't do that."_

 _Daryl felt his gun in his hand and he began to raise it to the bar. Then it all went black._

 _Daryl woke tied to a chair in his dining room, Jesus and Rick sitting in his livingroom. He struggled violently against his bonds. He yelled, he threatened, he cursed and spat and they didn't move. Only when he was spent did Rick sit opposite him._

 _"They were able to take him during the raid," Rick said evenly. "We don't need Negan and his crew coming back here to get him."_

 _"The fuck are you telling me?" Daryl growled at Rick. He glared up at Jesus then back at his friend who was sitting before him spewing absolute shit about a man who should be dead._

 _"We're gonna let him go."_

 _Daryl couldn't speak. Rick's words exploded in his brain. His face became a mask of rage. He reddened and he breathed in and out, heavy like a bull in a fighting pit._

 _"We have a plan," Jesus spoke up behind Rick. "If you calm down, we'll tell it to you."_

 _"There's an end game to this but we need you fully with us. We're only telling a select few, the rest of the people can't know about it." Rick leaned in towards him. "We need you with us Daryl. We need to know you won't go your own way and will stand behind this."_

 _Daryl tried to stay his anger. He tried to relax his body but he could not. All he wanted to do was go out and kill everyone. He had just buried Carol. He could still smell her blood._

 _"What's the plan? What's the end game?" He gritted his teeth and clenched his jaw._

 _Rick and Jesus stared at one another then back at him._

 _"Well," Rick began slowly. "The end game is to wipe out the Saviors. If you are with us, we will be able to accomplish that." Rick took a deep breath. "The plan for now is to give in to them."_

 _"WHAT!"_

 _Rick put his hands up to try to temper Daryl. "Just for now. Let them think we're broken. That they got to us. In the meantime we'll get our ducks in a row. Build an army. Stratagize. We can't go into this wild Daryl. We can't be stupid. We were stupid before and too many people have died. I want this done right. I know you want it done right. They will die. Negan and the rest."_

 _Daryl considered his words. Rick was right. They went in blind before and it got worse. The saviors were too big and too organised. They weren't like the Governor or Terminus. They were an army and one man could not defeat an army._

 _"So we let him go, then what?" Daryl tried to keep his voice steady._

 _"I follow him and find out where their main camp is," Jesus answered. "Then we work out a plan, take it slow, and take them all the way down."_

 _"And in the meantime we play nice?"_

 _"Yes. Play nice and play weak. It won't be hard. Most of these people are scared. The fewer people who know the more believable it will be." Rick said._

 _"Who's gonna know?" Daryl was calmer now. It was beginning to click with him. If this worked he'd have time to kill Dwight and Negan and the rest of them. They'd all be gone and he liked the sound of that._

 _"For now, just the three of us and Michonne and Carl." Rick said._

 _It was a difficult ruse to achieve. Letting the group know they were releasing Dwight. Letting them know that they'd need to set aside half of everyting to give to Negan. Letting them think they were defeated._

 _"This is some grade A, premium, undiluted BULLSHIT," Abraham had yelled out as Rick told them how things were going to be from now on. They all agreed, but as Rick pointed out, there was nothing they could do about it._

 _A fews day later Negan came to pick up his first collection with his men, cocky and gloating with his barbed wire bat resting against his shoulder. Everyone had to maintain composure. The fighters all stood to the side, scowling, eyeing the group of men who called themselves saviors. Vultures was a more apt name for them. The rest of the community stayed in their houses, peeking out from behind curtains, scared of what might happen with these unpredictable people._

 _Daryl had been hung over and ragged from a night in the field. He sat on Rick's porch with his head against the rail, eyes closed, focusing on the big picture, trying to ignore the present situation._

 _Everyone was angry with Rick. They glared at him openly. They spoke harshly to him. They ignored him. Rick took it. In the end he knew it would be worth it. In a way Daryl's breakdown helped with the ruse. The people felt Alexandria was falling apart and he and Rick did nothing to make them think otherwise._

* * *

Rick answered his door in only his jeans. He looked annoyed at Daryl but stepped aside and let him in.

They sat down in the livingroom. Daryl didn't like the way Rick was looking at him but he ignored it. He wanted to go through the next step of the plan, not seek Rick's approval.

"What's going on tomorrow?" Daryl leaned down in the armchair and hung his leg over the armrest.

"What's going on with you?" Rick kept his eyes steady on Daryl. "I'm gonna need you to tell me exactly how you met that woman."

"Can't," was all Daryl said.

"What do you mean you can't?"

"I get it. I do. I've been dealing with Carol badly. I got you worried, but I'm done with it. It's over." Daryl sat up and looked seriously at Rick. "As for Harley, she's not a Savior. She's not a spy. I'm not going to get into how we met but know that it wasn't a set up, it wasn't a plot to get her inside here. Negan thinks we've crumbled, that he has his foot firm on our necks and we're gladly licking his boots. He's not going to bother with shit like spies. He's not subtle like that."

Rick said nothing as he considered Daryl's words, then he slowly nodded. "Fine. I'll let it go." He sighed, running his hands over his face. "Tomorrow Jesus is going to take me to meet some guy called Ezekiel. We're going to leave in the morning and I should be back later tomorrow night. He thinks we can get this guy on our side, get a few more fighters."

"You're going alone?"

"Yeah. Jesus thinks it's best if I meet with him first. All of us going might come off as threatening."

"And then what?"

"We see what he has to offer. This is going to have to be a slow process. We can't get too far ahead of ourselves. We have to collect pieces before we know where we can place them."

Daryl agreed. He'd have to relax. The better they planned, the better their chances of winning.

"Tomorrow I'm gonna need you to walk the perimeter. Make sure everything is secure. Michonne, Abraham and Sasha will keep watch tonight and tomorrow it'll be Spencer, Tara and Heath. I'm sending Rosita with Eugene's group to keept them safe. Wish Glen were still here. We need an extra eye out there with Eugene's team."

"I can send Harley." Rick's brows shot up with Daryl's suggestion. "She's good and her bow is quiet. Rosita can be back up but the less noise the less things we draw." He could see the hesitation on Rick's face. "She knows what's she's doing. She's good."

She was good. Daryl knew she would pull her weight and keep his people safe. If not for them, for him.

"Fine." Rick stood up. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a woman waiting for me upstairs."

Daryl walked out and headed towards his home where he also had a woman waiting for him. She might not be his woman but that wasn't going to stop him from wanting to be with her.

* * *

Harley sat on the couch in the living room and folded her clothes, setting aside clothing she would change into. Daryl was right, it didn't take long for them to dry on the balcony.

She took off his shirt and changed into her clothing then stood at the window facing the compound and looked down at it. A guard stood on a wooden tower at the corner of the gate and another one stood in front of the gate on the ground. It looked like they were building a parapet along the wall to go all the way around. Other people just waked to and fro going about their business. There didn't seem to be much urgency in their movements. They did not look like people preparing to go to battle.

What was she doing here? Did she really come to become part of a group? Alexandria was impressive, with it's feel of suburbia behind walls but was this what she really wanted? Was it what she needed? She had said she would give it a shot but now doubt plagued her. Would she have to witness the destruction of this group too?

The guards at the gate looked tough but the rest of these people looked like they only lived in the false world created by walls and a few men with guns.

Were the children who were playing by the lake being taught to fight? Were they being taught how to survive outside the walls? Could they take on the dead?

Daryl entered the unit and saw her in the the living room and watched her as she stared out the window. He sat down on the couch and took off his shirt in the heat. He never took off his shirt to expose his scars. No one knew he had them. She knew. Where they came from, what they looked like, what they felt like.

She didn't turn to him but continued to look outside. She wore cargo pants and a faded black tank top, her wrist protection on her hands as always. "You like what you see?"

"Yes," she turned to him, "and no." She walked from the window to sit next to him.

He looked at her. She was worried about being here. He felt he owed it to her to be honest about what she was walking into.

"I want to talk about what's going on here. I told you something that most of the people here don't even know."

Shifting in her seat she watched him.

"I know you're tough and capable of fighting," he continued. "You don't make it on the outside unless you are. I told you earlier we were going to take on the Saviors." He watched her for a reaction but she remained impassive. "I won't ask you to fight this battle with us. I would appreciate it if you did but that's gonna have to be your choice. I am asking that you help protect these people though:"

"I see." She pursed her lips, thinking. "What do I know that they don't?"

"That we're taking the Saviors on."

She eyed him carefully. "How can they not know? How does that make sense?"

"We don't have enough people who can fight. For now, everyone but a few think we've given in to Negan. We set aside half of what we have for him and act like we're going along with his demands."

"Then what?"

"We build an army. We have a guy, called Jesus, he comes from a community called the Hilltop. He's taking Rick to meet with another group tomorrow to see if they'll stand with us. He'll see if he can get the Hilltop to stand with us also. When we have the fighters, we'll make our move."

"And when Negan comes you just keep your head down. Play the fool for him?" Daryl nodded. "What happens if no one joins? If no one wants to risk their people?"

"They will fight." He was firm in is belief.

"What if they don't?"

"They will," Daryl's voice was forceful, his face fierce. "If they don't, they'll still loose people and valuable resources and live forever in fear of some boogy man stalking this area."

"Tell me how all this started."

Daryl sighed deeply and lay his head against the back of the couch.

"You all right?"

"Just a headache."

She moved closer to him. "Here, turn to me." Her voice now soothing. He turned his body towards her and she got up on her knees on the couch, moving close, and began rubbing his temples with her fingers.

She was comforting him again. She was good at it. "That feels good," he said as she slowly moved her rubbing fingers down from his temples to the nape of his neck and back again.

Daryl's face was level with her chest. He was so close his nose almost touched her skin. He could see she wore no bra, see the curve of her breasts rise slightly from the top of her shirt. They bounced faintly with her movement. His groin clenched as he kept his eyes on her, enjoying her massaging him firmly.

His eyes focused on her breasts except the few times he had to close them against the tantalizing view to keep himself under control. His breath caught when he saw her nipples harden before his eyes, standing erect and enticing before him.

His breath was warm on her skin and sent sensual tingles up her spine, causing a tightness between her legs. She silently urged him to feel her.

Daryl was tempted. He should move away. Get himself out of her grasp, her pleasant touch, her caring. Except he enjoyed this. He wanted to push her down on the couch, get her on her back and take her. He had never had a sexual urge so strong. He breathed out slowly and grabbed her wrists and untangled her fingers from his hair.

He meant to say sorry, to say something reassuring, fumble out an excuse for stopping her, but instead he said, "you're turning me on."

Harley stared at him. Her chest heaved with the excitement she felt from his words. She felt thrilled and wanting. They were supposed to be talking about this community, a coming war. Death. Not base attractions. He still held her by the wrist, her arms down by her side. She could have removed herself from his grip and move away from him but she sat there and stared and bit her bottom lip.

Her biting her lip did something. Daryl didn't even realize what he was doing as he leaned forward and bent his head to her chest and kissed the silken flesh above the collar of the shirt. It was slow, lingering and soft.

A nervous pleasure sparked through him and he heard her gasp faintly. He slowly brought his head up and met her eyes with his. He could apologize, fumble out an excuse. He didn't. It felt right. He felt no guilt in doing it.

He released her wrists and got up and went to sit on the stairs. If he stayed he would want more. He would bury his head between her breasts and his hands under her hips, and his body between her legs.

Harley didn't know what to say. She was shocked but not upset. He wasn't the type to maltreat someone. Despite what occurred this morning while he was still in the throws of dream, he would never imposed himself on her. Nevertheless he had just kissed to top of her breasts uninvited and all she had in response was a moan and a dampness in her panties.

Following him to the stairs she sat on the step above him, his head was bent towards his legs. She didn't know if she should speak. What would she say? She eyed the scars on his back and began to trace them with her fingers, feeling the heat of his skin and the ridges where the scars were raised. He took her hand and brought it in front of him.

"You have to stop," he said as he kissed the palm of her hand. "I can't..." he ran her finger against his lips. "I don't usually..."

"Me either," her voice was soft. She took a deep breath and pulled her hand from him. "Lets sit at the table and talk. Only talk."

He nodded and went to sit down at the dining table, her following. He looked shyly at her then cleared his throat and began to tell the tale of learning about the Hilltop and the fight that ensued when one of the Hilltop's members tried to kill their leader on Negan's orders. He told of the deal they made with the Hilltop and their ambush on the Saviors. He told her about the ambush by the Saviors on them on the train tracks.

"It sounds like a real shit storm," she said after a while. "Chances are though they would have found you eventually and you'd have never known about possible allies."

"Yeah. Look, like I said, I'm not going to ask you to go up against the Saviors with us. But I am going to ask you to help protect these people. Most of them have been behind the walls since the start. Some are learning to fight, but they're really not equipped."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I want you on Eugene tomorrow."

Harley's eyebrows shot up and she smiled wryly. "And what exactly am I supposed to do on Eugene?"

Daryl smiled and eyed her. He was glad she was making jokes. The air between them had become thick but now it was as if he hadn't kissed her earlier.

 _But you did_ , he thought.

"Eugene takes a small group outside the walls to work on a project. We have a woman, Rosita, guard them but I thought you could take point on that. You have a bow and bows are quiet and you don't have to get close. She can back you up with her gun if needed but it's better to not make too much noise."

She nodded. "What project?" Daryl hesitated. "Look, if I'm going to risk my life for you, I need to know what I'm risking it for."

"For them," Daryl corrected her. "You're risking your life for them."

She examined him for a while, her face serious. "Fine. For them."

"Eugene's found a way to make bullets."

"Shit. For real?" She was impressed again. Bullets meant something in this world. Next to food and water, they were a very important commodity.

"For real. How are you with a gun?"

"I can shoot, kinda, but I'm better with a bow."

"Okay. I'm gonna train you. We'll start when we both have a day free. Maybe day after tomorrow."

"Sounds good."

In the morning she would start living the life of an Alexandrian. She would again have people depend on her to keep them safe, to keep them alive.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you so much for reading, faving, and following.

TheGreenKnightOfTheForest: That would be an interesting twist. Haha.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 -

The dew was still wet the walls of Alexandria and the sun began to cast a yellow glow as Harley stood before the gate waiting to meet Rosita. The red haired man who was on the tower yesterday morning was standing guard, eyeing her periodically while pacing back and forth.

"Morning, I'm Harley," she said to him after watching him move restlessly from one end of the gate to the next.

"Abraham," was all he said, not pausing his movement.

After dinner Daryl had taken her on a tour of the community, introducing her to Olivia and showing her how to get rations and supplies. He took her to meet Rosita and Rosita told her how she escorted the group to the site. Rosita was tough, self assured. Harley felt she would be able to depend on this woman when the time came.

Rosita walked up to her with five other people. She took the time to introduce them all to Harley. With them was Eugene, a man named David, and three women named Lisa, Jaime, and Laura. Besides Eugene, all of them were older. Perhaps late fifties and beyond. They had knives tucked into their belts and uncertainty draped on their faces.

Rosita eyed Abraham impatiently and said nothing to him as she stood in front of the gate, her hands on her hip waiting for him to let them out. They walked single file out the gates, Rosita taking up the lead, Harley in the rear. They walked in silence, watching every corner for any threat that might stumble towards them. Once out of the residential area they made their way into the deserted town through back streets that were littered with abandoned cars, forgotten possessions, and trash.

Harley nocked one of the three arrows that were in her hand and held her bow ready. She moved off to the side so she could get a clear shot of anything that may come ahead of them.

A stench filled the air; old carcasses, rotting flesh. It rose up from the ground like smoke and stuck inside her nose. A familiar sound floated out into the emptiness of the deserted streets as they walked in the golden morning.

Everyone stopped. It was coming from up ahead to the left of them. Harley stepped to the front of the group as two of the dead stepped from the side of a building, turning towards them and shuffling their way. She quickly put them down and walked forward to retrieve her spent arrows, stepping on their heads and yanking towards her, strong and swift. She motioned for the group to come and then continued to move down the street a few paces ahead, checking blind spots for any more threats.

She walked past an abandoned laundromat and peered her head around the corner and saw a small group. She quickly counted, there were seven. They were standing aimlessly, almost like they were asleep on their feet, swaying gently in the shadows cast by the buildings. Their clothes were tattered, their flesh sagged where there was still flesh, their moans low.

She held her hand up to the group, signaling them to stop. They looked at her nervously. She nocked an arrow and stood at the lip of the alley, took a breath and loosed it into the head of the creature closest to her. A small frenzy of growls and scaping of feet on tar was heard as the rest began to move hungrily towards her. She took out two more nearest her. Harley grabbed three more arrows from her quiver and in quick succession nocked and fired. The last one stumbled and fell on the others. It raised its head, hands up, teeth gnashing. She shot it in the center of the forehead, making it's head snap back before it too fell.

She made her way towards the heap and turned them each over and pulled her arrows free. She hated the sound and sight of the arrows being pulled back from flesh and bone. There was a time when doing so would bring bile up her throat towards her mouth, but now it simply made her grit her teeth as the crunch, squish sound raked across her nerves.

The group found its way to a warehouse where they watched as Eugene unlocked the door and Rosita led them in, checking to make sure nothing got in overnight. She had pointed out the building Harley was to get on to keep lookout and make sure the way was clear for them to exit when they were done, which would be at four, right now it was half past six. Rosita would stay inside with the group, if anyone got past Harley, she'd be there to protect the others.

"How do I get you if I need you?" Harley asked.

"Good question. Just knock," Rosita answered

"Is there some sort of secret knock you guys have?" Rosita shook her head. Harley thought for a moment. "I'll knock out the beginning of 'We Will Rock You'."

Rosita smirked at her, "better than nothing I guess." She went inside.

When Harley got to the roof of the building facing the door to the warehouse she sat down leaning against the housing that led to the building's stairwell. She removed her water and a book from her rucksack and sat cross legged and watched the door for a moment before cracking her book and taking a drink of water.

Her reading was distracted by thoughts of Daryl, kissing her on the couch, touching her in the farmhouse. He had given her the bed the night before and slept on the couch and was gone by the time she got up. Harley sighed. She could still feel the pressure of his lips on her.

She stood and looked down all four sides of the building before sitting again. It was going to be a long hot day up there. She thought of opening the door to the stairwell to seek shelter from the sun. She wasn't sure though, hopefully nothing would be in the building. She would check later, when the sun sat high in the sky. Until then she would read and patrol every few minutes.

* * *

Daryl had made his way to the gates while it was still dark, the sky only just beginning to lighten in the far horizon. Abraham was standing watch, his gun slung on his back, chewing on the last bits of his cigar.

Abraham held fast to the gate and eyed him up and down. "You got a real dumb ass look on your face this morning my friend," the large man drawled out.

Daryl looked at Abraham out the side of his eye. Was he that obvious? He did feel different. For the first time since Dwight put an arrow through Denise's eye he felt at ease. He woke up looking forward to the day ahead, looking forward to coming home this evening. He looked forward to being with Harley.

Abraham smiled broadly at him. "This wouldn't have something to do with a certain woman with the nice ass and million watt smile?" Daryl glared at Abraham, was he checking out Harley? "Oh yeah," Abraham answered his unasked question. "I very much did notice that about her."

Daryl said nothing. He shifted his feet, waiting for Abraham to open the gate so he could get on with it but the man just stood there staring at him.

"You know," Abraham said looking at Daryl pointedly, "if you wanna talk, I'm here for you man."

"What? Are we girlfriends now?" Daryl didn't feel like trying to suss out his feelings about Harley with himself much less with Abraham.

Abraham spat on the ground and took a hold of Daryl's shoulder. "I guess not, but I will tell you, life is short, shorter in this new world. We have enough things to regret, no use creating more. You smell what I'm steppin' in?" He patted Daryl on the back, guiding him through the gate.

Daryl nodded and headed out to the woods. He walked the perimeter around Alexandria. He didn't see much in the way of tracks. Nothing had been here in the past few days since last he did this.

The trees of the woods filtered the light and the heat. He hated perimeter patrol. It felt tedious and bored him. It was important though. It let them know if there were people in the woods spying on them. This morning all was quiet. He leaned up against a tree and surveyed all that was before him. Dense brush tangled along the ground and young trees were growing up in the distance. Nature was coming back full force and there was nothing to stop her.

He looked up at the tree he was next to and saw the thick branches growing out of its sturdy trunk. He began to climb it, going as high as he could and sat down on a broad branch. This was how Harley lived her life. Surrounded by quiet woods, sitting up in trees to stay safe. He hooked his crossbow around another branch and stood tall and looked around. He had a good view of the top of his area and could see further into the neighborhood next to Alexandria. Below him walkers could pass underneath and never know he was there. She was smart. He could see how she would feel safer up here at night rather than in a house someone else may be thinking of entering themselves or worse, on the ground.

He took out a cigarette and lit it thinking. He heard the sounds of birds far in the distance and the rattle of leaves as the wind blew underneath the canopy of the trees.

He touched his lips remembering the feel of Harley's skin on them. He remembered the soft give of her cleavage. He had spent most of his time with her trying to curb his urges to touch her. She seemed to be drawn to him but he couldn't be certain if that was her pity for him or her loneliness or... _You're not trash Daryl. You're a good man_.

* * *

The day slipped from morning to afternoon. A few of the dead lay below with arrows in their heads. Harley lay on the roof, face up to the sun, eating an apple, reading her book. There was light scratching and muffled moans coming from the housing that held the stairwell to the building. She had banged on the door earlier, sending a signal to any dead inside and they answered. It sounded like there were only two, maybe three, but she wasn't interested in opening the door to find out. She listened past them for any walking on the street.

The watch was easy but banal. Next time she would bring something to make a tent to lay under. The sun was burning her skin, turning it from sienna to mahogany. She packed her things into her rucksack and began her descent onto the ground where it was cool in the shadow of the building.

She walked to the warehouse and knocked on the door. Rosita poked her head out. "I'm gonna do a quick walkabout, maybe half an hour or so. I let you know when I'm back."

Rosita nodded. "Don't take any chances out there," she said before heading back in.

Harley pulled her arrows out of the heads of the dead and dragged their bodies to the next block so anyone passing wouldn't be tempted to check out the warehouse like they might be if the bodies were piled in front of it. She wondered if it would be prudent to clear a nearby building to store the bodies in so the stink wouldn't fill the air so much. It was something she would have to think about.

She wandered until she got to the main street, getting a feel for the area. It was a sad commentary to the world. Many storefronts were smashed in, debris lining their floors. Some were intact, their glass almost blackened by dust. The streets were strewn with broken furniture, empty cars, garbage, clothes. Everything spoke of people escaping the horror that had come into the world.

She didn't want to be gone too long. She kept close to the buildings, peering in every so often at the nothingness. A few of the dead were trapped behind the glass, scratching and growling and biting.

In a nicknack store a bound and gagged woman stood, banging her head against the glass, pressing her face into it, distorting her already gruesome features as she snarled at Harley. Harley had seen many dead like this, bound, gagged, knives sticking out them or with gunshot wounds. Evidence of being killed by people and not having succumbed to the dead.

She had never paid much attention to the older murdered dead, but the fresh ones made her nervous. She had no way of knowing if they had wandered a great distance or came from nearby. Their killers somewhere close waiting for their next victim.

Harley turned away from the store. In the distance she spied a small library. She smiled to herself, of course it wouldn't be touched at all. She walked to the one story building, making her way around the entire parameter before knocking on one of the windows. A few of the dead came and she ducked down before they reached her. She went to the other side of the building and slowly pushed a window up. Foul hot air rushed out as she pushed it higher, watching to make sure the dead were still occupied at the other window. Crawling inside she made her way to a shelf near the front of the room and took a few books out and threw them loudly to the ground, drawing the creatures to her. She nocked and fired, dropping them before they could reach her.

Collecting her arrows she dragged the bodies into a small office in the back then made her along the various shelves. Once she found what she was looking for she stuffed the books in her bag and left, closing the window behind her.

After letting Rosita know she was back Harley circled the warehouse, getting a look at the outside. She saw there was another door on the side and one to the back. On the other side was a dumpster and she climbed on top of it and pulled herself on the roof then lay on her back trying to catch her breath and wincing at her strained muscles in her arms.

She prefered this vantage point as she could take out anything coming from the side of the building before it reached the main door.

Looking around the town from up above the feeling of loneliness hit her fully. Nothing moved in the distance. There were only other rooftops and silence. The sky was a brilliant blue speckled with white clouds and a slight wind blew. This is what her life was like only a few days before; up above everything in the quiet of the dead world, alone.

She kept her eye on the door below her, willing for it to be time to leave so she could get back to where she now wanted to be. Back in the townhouse with Daryl. She wasn't ready to integrate fully into a group but she knew she never wanted to be back to where she was, apart from it all. Being with Daryl made her want to belong to something. To belong to him. To open herself up. To connect. To not be by herself anymore.

The metal door of the warehouse opened below. When Rosita poked her head out Harley whistled and gave the thumbs up as Rosita looked up then made her way down to them. Eugene and his crew were carrying boxes, Harley held his while he locked the door.

Harley walked ahead of the group while Rosita followed in the back. They again walked in silence, passing the same corners and alleyways they passed this morning. They walked along the suburban streets lined with empty houses that had broken or boarded up windows, decaying yards and debris from looted goods lining the ground.

When they reached the maze of cars on the side of the road she saw Daryl standing outside the gates watching them approach. She put her head down to hide the broad smile that suddenly lined her face as she worked her way in and out of the cars.

He had his face hidden behind his curtain of hair, his crossbow slung casually across his shoulder as he leaned against the gate. He saw them coming as soon as he made it to the gate and waited on them. He made his face a mask of indifference as he watched her wend her way between the cars, lowering her bow as she got closer to him. Her face was ruddy from being in the sun. He banged on the gate when they got closer and stood to the side to let the others enter.

She stood next to him, looked up and flashed a smile and he put his hands in his pockets.

"Good day?" he looked down at her briefly then watched the rest of the crew walk up.

"It was okay."

"She's good," Jaime said to Daryl. "Took out a whole bunch of the roamers by herself." The woman clapped Harley on her shoulder. "Thank you." and she walked inside the gate.

The others nodded at her and said their thanks as they headed in.

Eugene stopped in front of Daryl and held his boxes up, "We got a good haul. Mostly 9's and a few 45's but I got a whole case for Sasha. I think I should try to produce two cases for her, her being the sniper and all."

"Sounds good. Let Olivia know and she'll get it to Rick."

Rosita came up last and patted both of them on the shoulder. As she walked inside she turned around and said to Harley, "we're going back day after tomorrow. You coming?"

"Yeah," Harley said as she and Daryl walked in. They made their way towards the townhouses. "How did you do today?" She looked over at him as they walked around the lake.

"I climbed a few trees. Got to understand why you did that. It was peaceful and secure. It also hurt my backside."

"You get used to it." She flashed her smile at him again, her entire face lighting up.

He removed his hand from his pocket and brushed a finger down her arm. They stood staring at each other, the hair stood up on Harley's arm, the skin tingling where he had brushed it.

"I'll meet you back at the townhouse. I need to see Olivia about something."

"Yeah, okay," he nodded, watching her back away from him then turning and heading to the armoury. He didn't move until she was completely out of his sight.

* * *

Harley walked in the townhouse as Daryl sat at the dining table eating, his hair still wet from his shower. Standing across from him she smiled, "I have something for you:" Her eyes were shining as she dropped a package on the table wrapped neatly in brown paper bag.

Daryl stared at it, not making a move to pick it up. She shoved the package towards him, "open it," she urged. Watching him she was now feeling unsure of her gift. He looked like he didn't know how to accept it as his eyes darted between her and the package.

Daryl began to slowly tear the paper away revealing two books underneath. He pulled them free and looked at them. One was 'A Journey Through Every Country of the World' and the other was 'Planet Earth'.

"You said you never got out of Georgia so I thought you might want to see some of the world." She watched him as he stared at the covers, not sure if he appreciated it or not.

"You did this for me?" Of Course she did, as mistrustful as she was of people she was a giver, a nurturer. She was giving and nurturing to him. Opening one of the covers he spied the stamp naming the library the book came from and he smiled. "You stole from the library?"

She nodded, "I also tossed some books down and put them back on the shelf in the wrong place."

"You were on a bender," he said and she chuckled. "I...I don't know what to say. Thank you Harley."

She walked to him, squeezing his shoulder, "it was nothing. I'm gonna take a shower."

When she came back down he called her over to the table, on which sat a plate of food he prepared for her. It was all he could think to do for her, wishing he knew what she needed so he could give it to her. She thanked him and ate as he stared at her. She could feel his eyes boring a hole in her head. Each time she looked up he would avert his gaze.

"I thought we could look through the books together," she said finally, unable to take the silence and awkwardness.

"Okay." He watched her eat. She was so used to having little food that even the small amount he prepared for her seemed too much. "You all right?"

"Yeah. I was just thinking about today. It's strange. You meet people, you fight for them, you defend them, but you don't even know the basics about them."

"You know what's important though. You know what's in their heart."

"What's in your heart Daryl Dixon?"

He didn't answer for a moment, trying to think of the words to describe all that he was feeling. "Confusion," is what he finally came up with.

"Yeah, I feel that too. I don't hardly recognize myself now. I don't know what I want anymore."

He stared at her face, "I know you don't want to be alone."

"I don't."

"Come on, finish eating and we can look at my new stolen library books." She smiled at him.

He sat on the couch patting the space next to him and she sat down, their shoulders touching. He flipped through the 'Planet Earth' book, staring at the photos, the only sound was the scrape of the pages against each other as he turned them. He'd never seen anything like it. He had never really thought beyond the borders of Georgia and here he was looking at worlds he will never be able to see. It filled him with awe and sadness.

"Beautiful isn't it," she whispered.

Looking at her profile he said, "yeah." He stiffened when she moved closer to him, placing her head on his shoulder. Realizing he was holding his breath he let it out slowly and turned the page, feeling the warmth of her skin against his, smelling the scent of soap coming from her.

An inextricable need to climb into his arms overtook her and she found herself pressing into him. He had stopped moving and kept the page on a wall of text. In a lot of ways he reminded her of a little boy, shy and nervous around women, jumping at their touch. Other times though, like the day before on the couch, he was bold. She moved her head off his shoulder and put some distance between them when he suddenly grabbed her by the arm.

She met his intense stare, it gave her chill and solidified her wanting of him. "Don't go," he said. He took a few throw pillows and put them against the arm of the sofa and leaned against them. "Come here," she moved between his legs, laying on her stomach, resting her head on his chest, feeling his heart thud in his chest.

As her arms wrapped around his waist Daryl fought to keep himself in check, steadying his breath, hopeful she wouldn't feel him getting hard under her. He began to stroke her back as they watched the darkness of night fill the room. She wanted physical contact with another person, someone who she was safe with, who wouldn't push for more. A war raged inside him. Every touch sent sparks through him, telling him to kiss her, feel her naked skin, sink into her. He sighed.

"How did you become a librarian?"

"My sister had this teacher that reached out to her. She knew Indian was smart but also from a fucked up home so she would have her stay after school and help grade papers and things like that. My sister would have me wait in the school library until she was done and the librarian, Mrs. Chandler, decided that if I was gonna be in there day in and day out I might as well be of some use, so she put me to work too. I liked it. She was able to get me a job volunteering at the local public library on the weekends and the staff there helped me get my degree and after that a job "

"Did you have kids?"

"No. My sister's kids were like my own though. Their dad died before the youngest was born, car accident. They all turned a few days into the outbreak."

"Did you have a husband, a boyfriend?" He asked, not quite knowing why he needed to know the answers.

"I wasn't married. Last guy I was with, I thought I was in love. He cheated on me. That was about two years before all this happened." she shook her head. "My sister told my dad and he had his boys beat the shit outta him." She laughed a little, "gotta love dad."

"Five years? It's been five years since you were with a man?" Why did that news please him? "It was few months before the outbreak for me."

"Was she special?"

"No." He didn't know if he should tell her there had never been anyone special. "Why didn't you have a man on the road? You're good looking, strong, kind."

She thought of the men she had come across. Weak, mean, uninspiring, dangerous. "I just never clicked with anyone I guess."

He wanted to ask her if they clicked but said nothing.

"What about you?" she asked him. "No kids, no wife, no girlfriend. Why not?""

 _Because whether or not you believe it I'm just trash, a redneck and no good woman in her right mind would want me_ , he thought. "I never clicked with anyone either," is all he said.

They fell into silence. She listened to the rhythmic beat of his heart and he kept stroking her back. Both things were soothing to her, relaxing. Her body rose with his as he breathed and she wrapped her arms tighter around him. This sense of normalcy was comforting. The world outside wasn't shot to shit, the dead didn't walk, society hadn't fallen. It was just another night in the embrace of...who was this man to her? She didn't know but he felt so good.

"Did you have to put them down?" His voice broke the silence.

"What?"

"Your sister and her kids. Did you have to put them down?"

"No. I don't know who turned first but I found her and her two eldest kids. The baby," she paused, trying to fight the memory from entering her mind. "The baby was gone." Her little body was torn up, scattered on the floor of her sister's bedroom. "I left them there. For all I know they're still there."

"I put my brother down. He had finally done a good deed but it got him killed."

"It's never easy. Never. You become numb or go crazy, struggling to find a reason to keep going."

"I have a family now. My group from Atlanta are my family. A few Alexandrians too."

"It's hard when they die."

"Yes it is, but giving up isn't the answer."

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you for faves, follows and reviews. Next chapter picks up a bit with planning for battle. Harley and Daryl break the dam a bit.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 -

The knocking on the door came to Daryl in a dream. It got progressively louder as he fought his way out of sleep. Harley was still laying between his legs, her head on his chest, fast asleep. He moved off the couch trying his best not to disturb her and went to open the door.

Rick and Jesus stood on the other side, both looked tired.

"Hey, can we come in?" Rick asked, looking around.

Daryl rubbed sleep out his eyes. "Uh, yeah, I guess. We have to go to the kitchen and keep quiet, Harley's asleep on the couch."

They leaned against the kitchen counters, Daryl still half asleep.

"We met with Ezekiel," Rick began. "He's the leader of a group called the Kingdom and they're willing to fight with us. We're gonna take a group out there, I was thinking after Negan comes to collect in a few days. We need to assess these guys, get a sense of what they can do and if possible, provide some basic training. We'll be gone about two nights. Three at the most."

Daryl nodded, darting his eyes between Rick and Jesus. This was happening. They were building an army to take on Negan.

"What kind of setup they got?"

Rick shook his head, "it's uh, it's interesting. Like nothing you'd expect. They're in a high school and it's secure. They look to have a good amount of able bodied people."

"Okay, so who's going?"

"We're taking Sasha, Abraham, Michonne, Rosita and you. We'll leave Heath, Tara and Father Gabriel to coordinate security here while we're gone. I may also leave Carl. I'll see."

"Harley can stay too, to keep watch," Daryl said, not really wanting to leave her so long but she was capable, even without a gun.

"No," Rick said quickly.

"You don't trust her?" Daryl glared at Rick, ready to fight him on this.

"Truth be told, I still don't really feel comfortable with her, but Rosita said she did a good job today. Mostly though I want her to train the Kingdom men with archery. They have the equipment but Ezekiel says they never really used it. You think she'd be good with that?"

"Yeah, she'll do it."

"Will she fight with us?"

"I can't say. I know she'll protect Alexandria and the people inside, but to go out and fight," Daryl shrugged his shoulders. He wasn't even sure if he wanted her out there fighting. "What about the Hilltop?"

"I'm going to see who I can convince to fight with us. It won't be much. Maybe as little as fifteen." Jesus answered. "When I get them together we'll meet you at the Kingdom."

Rick began running his hand through his hair. "I think I should tell Abraham what's going on. He seems ready to blow, wouldn't do for him to rage out on Negan when he comes to collect."

Daryl nodded, "yeah, seems good. Can't believe he's held on this long to be honest."

Rick didn't say anything. He and Jesus kept passing glances at each other before Jesus finally nodded his head in Daryl's direction. Rick walked close to Daryl, a worried look on his face. "I have to tell you something:"

Daryl stared at Rick, at the sweat starting to form on Rick's forehead, his eyes darting all over Daryl's face. Daryl couldn't think what Rick would want to tell him that would make him so nervous. "Tell me."

Rick took a deep breath and exchanged a look with Jesus. "We have an ally from the Saviors. He came to the Kingdom with an offer and is helping us with intel."

Daryl scowled. Rick didn't need to continue, he already knew who it was. He clenched his fist against the counter. "Dwight."

Rick nodded. "He wants this to end as much as we do."

"FUCKING DWIGHT," Daryl was screaming before he realised. "Are you fucking serious. He should be dead. FUCKING DEAD."

"I know, it's not..." Rick began.

"He gonna be there when we go?" Daryl's breathing became heavy. He wouldn't let go of the counter. If he did he was certain he would beat the shit out of both Rick and Jesus.

"No," Jesus said. "He'll feed info to Ezekiel and work to sabotage Negan from the inside."

"Why? Why is he helping us?" Daryl could only speak through clenched teeth.

"That woman you met him with was Dwight's wife. Negan takes women he likes for his own," Jesus said as Rick looked on, worried. "When they left, Negan saw it as Dwight stealing and as punishment for both leaving and taking his wife, Negan put an iron to his face."

"Good," Daryl said. "I'm gonna take a fucking hatchet to his face next. Even up the sides"

"I don't like it anymore than you do, but sometimes you have to..." Rick looked past Daryl, not finishing his sentence.

Daryl turned around and saw Harley watching them from the staircase. He must have woken her up with his yelling. He turned back to Rick, "Go on, tell me."

Rick looked between Harley and Daryl, not wanting to go on.

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend," Harley spoke up. "He's telling you you need to put aside your hatred for one to take out the other. Negan is the greater threat. Dwight is personal and killing him doesn't make you safe."

Daryl's eyes flashed anger her. "You're taking sides with a man who don't even want you here," Daryl spat at her.

She glanced at Rick before turning back to Daryl. She moved to the kitchen counter behind him and sat on a stool. "I know Dwight took away something from within you. You no longer trust your own judgement. You no longer feel good about helping others."

Daryl face contorted into a look heavy with contempt. Harley held firm and continued on. "If this guy can make it go easier, lets you know Negan's weakness, helps you take out his people, you're going to have to let them work with him. When this is all over, put an arrow in him and be done with it. Until then, you need to keep to the plan and the plan is kill Negan and take out the Saviors."

He was furious. She knew he felt like she was betraying him but she had to tell him the truth. Daryl was being emotional not logical. His emotions would make this fight harder than it already was. She would explain it to him when the others left but for now she would just sit in his disappointment for her.

"I couldn't have said it better myself," Rick said. Jesus nodded in agreement.

Daryl glared at her, his chest heaving up and down. "You're supposed to be on my side."

"I am on your side," she told him calmly. "Being on your side sometimes means I tell you what you need to hear, not what you want to hear."

Daryl slammed his fist on the counter making her jump and marched angrily out the room and up the stairs. Harley rubbed her head, weary at the thought of having to get him not to hate her.

She looked at Rick and Jesus. "I'll talk to him."

Rick nodded and they began to leave. Rick turned back to her, "thank you," he told her.

Harley nodded at him and watched them go.

* * *

Daryl fumed as he sat on the edge of the bed. Harley's words played in his head. Work with Dwight? The man who killed Denise, took Eugene, demanded entry into Alexandria to take what he wanted, who he wanted?

 _Negan is the greater threat_. She was right about that. These men worked on Negan's orders. He could kill Dwight and another one would be there to take his place. He wouldn't have to face Dwight, speak to him, fight next to him.

He lay back running it all through his head. She told him her honest feeling knowing it would infuriate him. Maybe even cause him to change his feelings for her. It didn't. He felt more strongly now than before. She was straightforward and truthful. Unafraid. He needed time to calm down, get his feelings together, remember what the bigger picture was then he'd go to her, apologize for his outburst.

Harley leaned over the railing of the balcony staring into the darkness beyond the wall smoking a cigarette, trying to work out how she would talk to Daryl when a light from inside came on and he walked out to join her.

He stood facing her, his waist pressing in the the bar on the railing. He lit his own cigarette and stuffed his other hand into his pocket to stop himself from touching her.

"I know it's hard," she began. "I know you regret not killing him when you first met him, feel foolish for helping him but you shouldn't. Never regret being good. Not being heartless."

"Sometimes you gotta be heartless. I helped him and he tried to kill me in return. That's the most fucking heartless thing you can do. He's a coward and when this is over he'll get what's coming to him. Imma make sure of that."

Harley turned to him and nodded.

"You're right though," Daryl blew smoke out, "Negan is the head of the snake. Without Dwight we could end up getting a lot of our people killed unnecessarily. I don't like it but I can live with it. For now."

"I was worried I'd have to make my way back out there."

"Never. I respect you for telling me what you did. I was really pissed though."

"You were. " She smiled faintly before stubbing her cigarette out and turning back to the darkness beyond.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, taking a draw off his cigarette.

"Strange."

"Good strange, bad strange?"

"Different strange."

"I get that. Lately I haven't been myself." _Especially since I met you_. He stared at her neck, wanting to kiss her there.

"Me either. I find myself doing things I would never do."

"Like trusting me?"

She turned to lean her back against the rail and looked up at him. "Among other things."

He removed his hand from his pocket. "Other things? Like what I did yesterday? Or at the farmhouse?"

Her skin pricked at his words. She had played those scenes over in her mind throughout the day, getting rushes of excitement remembering. She knew he wasn't the type to become intimate with someone. Even with his group he didn't say more than what had to be said. He kept them at a distance.

"Yes," she answered him quietly.

He nodded. "It was wrong."

"No. It was nice."

He stroked her arm with a finger. He didn't know what it was. He wasn't this man who casually touched and kissed women. He thought back to the woman Merle had pushed on him in a bar months before the outbreak. They were in the dark, her bent over, him drunk. He didn't like it. He didn't like her. He had been fine alone and had stayed alone. Yet here he was with this woman he barely knew, who made him want to give his everything to her.

She turned to him and stepped closer. She needed to make contact. To feel the warmth of another person. To be connected. Her arms circled around his waist and he held her to him.

She felt good in his arms. Warm and secure. Their arms tightened around each other and they held together for long while, neither wanting to let go. Both wanting to get lost in it. To be a part of something, someone.

Daryl pulled free first, holding on to her upper arms. He looked down on her, into her gentle doe eyes. He leaned down and kissed her lightly on the soft lips of her downturned mouth.

Her entire body tingled and softened at the touch of his lips to hers. She fell into his kiss. Gentle and slow and sweet. The only sound was the soft smacking of their lips as they made contact and the quiet moans their kissing elicited.

He pulled back and took her hand and led her off the balcony, past the kitchen and dining room and up the stairs.

She would follow him wherever he took her. Do whatever he wanted. She was done being in control. Tonight she was at his mercy and she felt no fear in that.

They walked into the bedroom and Daryl pulled the top sheet back on the bed. Harley stepped silently out of her pants and got in. He took off his pants and shirt and stood naked in the darkness. His heart pounded in his chest. He wasn't planning on making love to her but if it came to that he would without hesitation. He just wanted to be close to her.

He got into the bed next to her and scooted close to her. He felt her warm naked legs next to him. He kissed her lightly again and stroked her face.

"I just want to hold you tonight," he said. "And fall asleep with you in my arms. Nothing more."

She nodded. "Okay." She turned on her side, her back to him and he put his arms around her waist and pulled her into him. He let out a deep breath and closed his eyes and for the first time in a long time he didn't dread going to sleep.

* * *

It was still dark outside when Daryl awoke, Harley's bottom pressed against his lower abdomen, the back of her thigh against his penis. He moved closer to her, feeling her body rise and fall with her soft breaths. Wrapping his arm around her waist he pushed his face into the back of her neck. Laying with her was the most intimate thing he had ever done.

She grabbed his hand and held it tight to her, "good morning," she mumbled.

"Morning," he spoke into her neck, feeling a jolt, as if he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't be doing.

Harley could feel him stiffening against her legs and it made her uneasy. Last night she would have let him touch her anywhere, spread her legs and enter her, but this morning it had changed. The way she felt drawn to him, the way she wanted to always be wrapped in his embrace didn't seem right. She didn't know him but wanted to give so much of herself to him, do for him, protect him and it scared her.

"Are you hungry?" He asked and she nodded her head. "What would you like?"

"Eggs, bacon, some toast with butter and blueberry jam, a cup of coffee."

He smiled and found himself kissing her neck. "How about some apple sauce and water?"

She didn't answer, she bit her bottom lip trying not to moan as he brushed his lips against her skin, sending chills through her, making her want to turn to him and slip her leg around his waist and pull him into her.

A soft sigh escaped her mouth and Daryl's semi erection became full. He untangled himself from her and rolled on his back, suddenly on edge. He got out of bed and put his pants on and went to the kitchen. He came back to find the lamp next to the bed on and Harley sitting up. He sat next to her and handed her a glass of water and a jar of applesauce with a spoon. She drank down half the water and handed it back to him to place on the nightstand and began eating.

"Did you have a lot of girls before?" Her soft eyes fell on him, her look guarded.

He shook his head, "no. I was never good with girls. Merle was worried about me and would push girls on me. We never talked, just...you know."

She looked at him as he sat stirring his spoon in his jar. "You don't act like a man who's no good with girls."

Avoiding her stare he wondered what she meant by that. Did she think he was self assured or knew what he was doing while he was with her? "Like I said, I don't feel much like myself anymore."

"How would you have been with me before?"

This was becoming uncomfortable for him. He didn't know what she was looking for, he didn't know what the answer was. He looked over at her, at her big brown eyes that he was coming to love, at the look of a need for something on her face. "I don't know. I don't know how I'm with you now."

They ate their food silently, scraping the edges of the jars to get the last bits, to prolong the silence. She didn't know what answers she was looking for from Daryl. Perhaps she was searching for her own reason for her actions, her desires, her wants.

She handed her empty jar to him and he set it aside along with his own. "I like you," she blurted out and he froze. "There is something happening here. Between you and me. There's no use pretending there isn't." He simply stared, not quite able to meet her gaze.

"It's not easy for me either. I keep going back and forth, not sure why I feel the way I do or if it's right or makes sense or..." She started to feel foolish, pushing him towards something he obviously didn't want. "I guess I'll just shut up then."

"I never had a girlfriend," his voice was barely audible. "Thought I'd spend the rest of my life hanging with degenerates then escaping to the woods on occasion. Never saw myself with someone. Especially not someone like you."

"Like me?" Her heart was pounding, excited and nervous by his meaning.

"A good girl. Smart and nice," he watched a blush come over her face. "Why would you want me? Women only look at me different after I do something for them, like save them."

"I don't need saving." Her voice was quiet.

"Do you need me to protect you?"

Harley shook her head. "I don't need your protection."

"No. You don't." All the things he did that drew other women to him, made them ponder the possibility of being with him, didn't matter to her. She had saved him. She had protected him. She was good to him, kind to him, comforting.

Daryl didn't feel good enough to be wanted. He could understand needed but not wanted. He looked over at her. "I just don't understand why me?"

"I feel...good with you." She moved closer to him, "safe, sure, unafraid. You get me. You accept me as I am." She stroked his beard and moved her face closer to his. "Do you feel good with me?"

"Yes."

"Do those feelings scare you too?"

"Yes," he said weakly, moving forward and kissing her gently on the mouth, playing his tongue against hers. Her arms wrapped around his neck as his hand grabbed her leg and pulled it over his and rubbed her thigh.

His desire for her burned through him, the taste of her sweet in his mouth. Their tongues massaged each other and the air was filled with moans and sighs. Daryl took her bottom lip between his and sucked it for a moment before slowly letting it go.

They stared into each other's eyes, she bit her bottom lip, shy in her wanting for him. He slipped his hand under her shirt and he caressed the smooth skin of her stomach, feeling it quiver under his touch. She leaned forward to take his mouth again and he gave it to her. He was weak for her.

He stroked her face, looking at her tranquil expression. "I don't want you to regret anything, ever, with me." He looked directly at her, making sure she understood. He also needed to protect himself. The way he felt, she could easily hurt him.

He removed his hands from her and took a deep breath and put some distance between them. He began to unzip his pants and he caught the look on her face. "I just want to get comfortable, I can't lay in the bed with my pants on. I'm not planning anything."

She nodded and turned her back to him, "don't you own any underwear?"

He paused, "I think I might have one pair. I'll see if I can find it." He got up and rifled through his dresser until he found a pair of boxer-shorts. He went to the other side of the bed and changed into them and got in next to her.

They both lay on their back, staring at the ceiling as light began to filter through the windows. He reached down and took her hand, feeling the cloth of her wrist guards.

"What are you hiding under these things? There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with your hands."

She let go of his hand. She removed her wrist guards, tossed them to the ground. She knew she would be exposing herself to him so he could see her pain. He would now see what made her vulnerable, what made her fall apart. She turned to him, holding her arms out so he could see. Wrapped around her wrists were proof of being tied. Tightly tied. The scars were ragged and thick.

He stared at them, a fury coming alive in him. "What happened?"

"The last group I was with was raided. They took our possessions. They took lives. They took me and another woman from the camp." Her voice was quiet. "They tied us up and beat us. Laughed as they touched us, making sport of our fear. They left us alone in a room for hours, bleeding, crying and waiting for them to come back to do more damage."

He turned on his side and watched her, tracing her scars with his fingers.

"I had spent my time pulling against my ropes trying to get free. They took her from the room first and I was able to free my hands. I grabbed my things that they had thrown in the corner and escaped. I didn't go after her."

The woman's name was April. She was crying, her whole body shaking, as the smiling men took her from the room. She had screamed as the door closed behind her. It was piercing and full of fear. Harley still woke up sometimes after hearing those sobs in her dreams. "I try not to think about it because I can only imagine what they did to her."

"That's why you stay alone now?"

She nodded. "I felt drawn to you out in the field. I understood." She pulled her hands away from him. "Now you're not the only one who's exposed."

"You didn't have to show me this. I'm not entitled to your pain. I'm sorry I asked."

"I needed someone to know."

He longed to kiss her again, but he couldn't, not after knowing what happened to her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have touched you like that."

She looked at him. "Don't be sorry. You're not like other men Daryl. You don't do things to hurt people. I need to feel the touch of someone again. Of someone who cares."

A hush fell over the room. Daryl thought back to the kid Randall at Herschel's farm whose group would rape women as they terrorized the roads of Georgia. They had fought over whether or not to kill the boy as he was tied in Hershel's barn. Daryl knew he would not hesitate to kill those that did this to her.

"I will always have your back Harley. Always fight for you. Protect you." He meant it. "As long as I'm alive, no one will ever be able to do anything to hurt you."

"I know."

* * *

The 9mm in her hand felt good, Daryl had told her to keep it on her, make it her personal weapon. They had traveled from field to field shooting various weapons, moving on when they drew the dead to them. He was a good teacher, showing her the difference between various guns, how to stand, aim, shoot, load, and take apart different weapons.

It was exhilarating, all that power in the palm of her hand, but she still preferred the quiet of her bow. Her constant companion, security.

Her shoulder ached from where the rifle had recoiled against it, the worst her bow did was give her callouses on her fingertips where she drew the string.

They made their way back behind the gates of Alexandria and returned the truck to Tobin's yard. He hadn't bothered moving it since Daryl brought it to him. Harley took his crossbow back to the townhouse with her and he went to drop the guns back to the armory.

Daryl waited for Olivia to check all the guns and bullets back in, letting her know that he was keeping one gun, a clip and a box of ammo. When he got outside he ran into Aaron coming back from the farm. He had taken over the field with Eric since Maggie left. They had put a halt on active recruitment and Aaron seemed happier, still being able to work with Eric without worrying about his safety.

Daryl missed going out with Aaron. He had liked their conversations and the easy way Aaron carried himself. He clapped Aaron on the shoulder when they greeted.

"Long time man," Daryl said looking at the sunburned skin of his old friend.

"Well, when you're trying to feed two communities...," Aaron's voice trailed off. "Listen, Eric is making his special spaghetti tonight and between you and me, I know he's dying to get a look at your mystery lady. How 'bout it? Say in two hours you both come by?"

"Um," Daryl wavered. He wasn't sure how Harley would take being cross examined by them. "I'll see. We've been out all day and she might be tired."

"Sure, no pressure. Two hours and if you're not there no harm no foul."

"Thanks man," Daryl said before he headed home.

Harley sat on the kitchen counter in only her sports bra pressing ice wrapped in a cloth against her shoulder, her face still flushed from being in the sun all day. He could tell she enjoyed shooting. Her mouth had gaped in awe when she shot the .45, sending her arm flying up. He had to help her control it at first but after a short time she was shooting steady, hitting her targets more times than not.

He went to her, trying not to look at her taut stomach or cleavage above her bra's collar line and moved the cloth away from her shoulder. "Let me get a look." The bruise was red and spread across her shoulder like an ink spot. "Does it hurt bad?"

"Not too much. I'll take a hot shower in a bit, that should also help." She recognized the look he had on his face. It was the same one he had when he kissed her chest the other day. His eyes did a quick glance down at her body then moved back to her face. He stood quiet as he stared into her eyes before stepping back away from her. She slipped silently off the counter and walked past him. There had been something off about his reaction to being near her all day. It was her scars. They made him pity her. Lose his desire for her.

"Hey, you want to have dinner with some friends of mine? Aaron and his boyfriend invited us over. It'll be good, spaghetti with fresh pasta sauce?"

"Sure," her voice was flat. "When?"

He watched her as she dug through her bag and pulled out a straight razor. He wanted to kiss her, hold her, but every time he looked at her he remembered her story of being taken and touched by those men. Then he would feel guilt and unease. He didn't know how to be alone with her now.

"In about two hours," he answered. She nodded her head and went upstairs.

* * *

They sat at the table with finished plates of spaghetti. They all had glasses of wine except Daryl who drank whisky and water. Harley had stuffed a napkin through Daryl's collar, telling him watching him eat was like watching her young nephew who would have more food in his hair than his belly. Laughter came easy at Aaron and Eric's table. They told stories of before, carefully sidestepping any mention of panic, of tragedy, of death.

Daryl sat back and watched her and Eric talk about characters in books like they were real people. She would smile gently at the man and smack him lightly in disagreement with him. Daryl thought this was what she must have been like before. Easy and relaxed, always with her sweet smile and quick wit. Eric choked on his wine when Harley told him some woman called Jane Austen was a dusty vagina having hag who could take her pride and prejudice and ram 'em up Mr. Darcy's puckered asshole.

Aaron caught Daryl's eyes and they both laughed, their bodies shaking. Eric sat indignant.

"So, how are you liking it here?" Aaron asked, taking a drink.

"It's good. I never thought I'd see a place like this again. This place is special."

"How do you like your accommodations? It must be crowded at Daryl's place," Eric said giving a knowing look to Aaron. "Are you thinking of getting a place of your own?"

Harley glanced quickly at Daryl who was slouching in his chair watching her from behind his hair. "Well, I'm small so a closet would be fine for me. Are there many available places?"

Eric looked at Daryl. "Jess and Pete's place is almost restored. Maybe the two of you could move in there, give you more room. It's a good home to raise a family."

Daryl shifted uncomfortably in his seat and Aaron shot Eric a reproachful glance.

"I don't think we'll need all that," Harley's voice was casual. The way Daryl had backed off her though, maybe they should see about larger accommodations. Or she could look for something just for herself so he could have his space back.

Eric stood and held his hand out to Harley. "Come, I have a ton of books you can borrow if you want. I even have a few Jane Austens."

Harley got up and followed him to the overstuffed bookshelf in the other room. Daryl nursed his drink as he watched her scan the bookcase, pulling out books and speaking to Eric. She had worn her hair in two afro puffs tonight and Eric squeezed one of them and said something to her before they both started laughing. Daryl wished he could be that easy with her, touch her freely. He sighed and drained his glass.

"You really like her don't you?" Aaron was watching him as he watched her.

"Can I be honest with you?" Aaron nodded. "She told me something. About what happened to her out there," Daryl gave Aaron a pointed look, hoping the man caught his meaning, "and it makes me feel..." Daryl grappled with the next words.

"Different towards her?" Aaron offered.

"No. Guilty for how I feel." Harley wanted someone who cared, and he did, but also wanted her sexually. Desperately. Every moment next to her made his skin hot and his groin tingle. He constantly wanted to lay her down and pull her clothes off and touch her everywhere but knowing she had been tied, beaten, and molested made him feel wrong for having those feelings.

"Do you trust her?" Daryl looked at Aaron, confused by his question. "Do you think she'd lie to you?"

"No."

"Then if she acts fine you have to believe she is fine. If she's not pulling away, if she's receptive, you have to believe it and not have fear for things you think she should be feeling but accept how she really feels. Does that make sense?"

Daryl watched Harley laughing with Eric in the other room. "Somewhat. Thing is, I'm not sure if she's fine. I can't tell."

"Then move slow but make sure she knows what you want. Last thing you need is for her to think you're just her friend. She's attractive, smart and funny. Some other guy's not going to hesitate while you back off and you may end up watching her with someone else."

Daryl stared at Aaron. He was no good at this, he never pursued anyone and had no clue what to do. "Fuck," he said and Aaron gave him a sympathetic look.

"Relationships can be scarier than a herd of roamers."

Daryl nodded. Then a thought hit him. "Hey, you got any sweatpants or pajama bottoms I could have?"

Aaron gave him an amused look, "I think I can rustle something up, give me a minute." Aaron got up and went upstairs.

Harley and Daryl walked back to the townhouse. Harley held several books in her hands and Daryl had two pairs of pajama bottoms from Aaron. They sat together on the couch and she pulled out a book and held it up to him. "Thought you'd like this." The book was 'the Outsiders'.

Daryl took it and laughed. "I saw the movie. Me and my friends called ourselves greasers after that. Even tried to do flips off of cars and stupid shit like that. Almost broke my neck a few times," he smiled at the memory.

She put the book down in front of him and stood up, "well, I'm gonna head up to bed. Gotta a long day tomorrow."

He nodded, not knowing if he was supposed to join her or stay down there on the couch. He decided to stay. He slipped on one of the pajama bottoms and lay down. Picking up one of the picture books she had got him he flipped through the pages, seeing nothing, only feeling the tug of her silently calling to him. He got up and walked up the stairs. He could hold her and nothing more. He could control his other urges, let her know he was there for her.

He stepped in the room and found her reading on her stomach. She looked over at him, then without a word, closed her book, turned off the light and made space for him in the bed. He got in and pulled her close to him, his arm around her, his face buried in her neck.

His heart was racing. He took a few deep breaths and said nervously, "I feel something for you Harley. I don't know exactly what it is, but I feel it and it's strong."

She listened quietly, knowing this wasn't easy for him. Understanding his hesitation at his feelings for her. Glad he still desired her.

"I get it," she said. "Being alone is easier especially when you've been alone for so long. But I don't want to ignore this. I think it can be good. We just have to fight our natural instinct to push back against it."

She took his hand and pulled it to her mouth and gave it a kiss and felt his body relax.

"I'll try," he mumbled into her neck and squeezed her tighter.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** I love reading your reviews. Keep them coming. I am still working on future chapters and now have a clear idea how I'm going to wrap this all up. Hope you stick with me on this journey.

* * *

Chapter 8 -

Rick wanted Eugene to increase the production of bullets. Harley and Rosita took the group out every morning before sunrise and returned before sunset. Harley spent the mornings on the building across from the warehouse and late afternoons on the warehouse itself. She had cleared the housing to the staircase of the dead and pushed further into the building. It was an office building. On the ground floor filing cabinets and desks blocked the main entrance, the windows there were taped over with paper and the bottom stairs of the stairwell were blocked by chairs and a desk.

There was evidence of struggle on the other floors. Blood stained the walls, the floors, and the furniture. Scattered along the floor were chairs, papers, computers, and office supplies. A few of the dead were trapped behind locked office doors where they would pound and growl at the slightest noise she made.

In preparation for war Rick had Carl and Father Gabriel work on getting provisions together in case they needed to evacuate Alexandria. After Harley discovered the office across from the warehouse, Carl went with her to clear it of the walkers trapped inside. They picked up the debris off the ground and lined the desks along the wall, stacking a few against the stairwell door that opened up to the main floor. They scrubbed the floors and surfaces with hot water and whiskey to try to disinfect and get rid of the bad smell that hung in the air. There were ten private offices on both the second and third floors which they tried to get clear to be used as private rooms for people. They opened all the windows on the upper floors to air out the space.

Harley found herself staring at the boy with the too long hair and missing eye. His looks were worn, like that of an old man. A child raised in a war zone among so much death, violence, fear, and uncertainty. He had walked through the building with her like a soldier. Lowering and raising his gun as he turned corners, steps sure and cautious, a grim look on his face. It made her sad and proud at the same time. She felt more secure being with this fourteen year old boy than she did with the majority of the adults she had been with.

Carl and Father Gabriel would head out with the group in the morning with boxes of food, water, lanterns and blankets to store inside. They had worked out a route the people behind the walls would follow to get to safety, deciding it was a better option than the one they had before. The building was secure and with Harley clearing out walkers everyday, the route was also clear.

The Alexandrians worked to get supplies ready for Negan's pick up. They buzzed anxiously around the compound like bees as they stacked jars of preserves and boxes of vegetables from the farm. They put aside toiletries, large bottles of water, and some clothing that had been found while out on runs. They carefully selected meds to give, hiding the important items and sparing creams, over the counter pain pills, and bandages. Daryl told Harley Negan liked to come himself, to taunt them, let them know he had them beat, to rub it in the face of the group that had dared to take him on.

Daryl's nights were filled doing Abraham's guard duty. Abraham and Tobin worked digging a crawl space under the armory to hide weapons and bullets from Negan's crew. It was accessible from a trap door set under a sideboard that they used to store ammo and knives.

He and Harley hardly saw each other in the last week. His shift carried from 9 p.m. to 7 a.m., then he'd do a quick perimeter search until 9 a.m. As Negan's pick up time neared everyone became paranoid that he would put people in the woods to watch them, but there was never any sign of anyone being there.

Every morning he and Harley would exchange lingering looks before she headed out with her group. In the evenings he they would eat together then sit on the couch and talk, sometimes she would fall asleep against him, his hand stroking her hair, before he left for his shift.

The new schedule was a blessing and a curse. He didn't have to worry about keeping control of himself around her as his sexual urges grew stronger. Every look she gave made him hard. Every time she was near him he stared at her chest and ass, the space between her legs. The last time he slept next to her he had to move away as the temptation to rub his erection against her became more than he could bear.

The two hours they were together made it bearable to be near her and not touch her. But he missed being with her, falling asleep next to her, feeling her in his arms, smelling her natural scent beneath the soap as he pressed his face into her neck, feeling her soft skin.

Daryl sat down on the guard tower with his back against the wall, listening to the slow creep of a lone walker in the distance. Rick walked out his house and headed his way. Daryl lit a cigarette and made space for Rick on the lookout as Rick sat beside him with a sigh.

"I need this over. He's taking his time on purpose, fucking with us," Rick said. "It's been over a week since I was at the Kingdom. Ezekiel probably thinks we backed down."

"I wouldn't worry about it. It's given us time to prepare other things. We have a safe house, an escape plan, a weapons hold."

"You're really looking on the bright side," Rick said with a slight laugh.

"Well, accentuate the positive and all that shit," Daryl smiled. He turned to Rick. "you ready for this?"

"Nope. But I'm ready for it to be over. Be done with this, start living a life again." Rick leaned his head against the wall and sat silently.

Daryl watched the sky, he was still amazed at how different it was without all the lights of the city. Not even when he spent many nights in the woods near his home in Georgia, laying alone in the small leanto he made did he see the night sky look like it did now. "Shooting stars," he said pointing up.

Rick looked up. "Michonne wants to have a baby."

Daryl turned to Rick, trying to read his friends expression in the dark. "And you?"

"Life carries on right? I would like Judith to be older and me and Michonne to be younger."

"Wow. Another Lil' Ass Kicker."

"Crazy right?"

Daryl didn't know if it was crazy. What was the point of being in Alexandria and preparing for its future if not to see it grow with new life? "No."

"You ever wanted kids?"

"No." Who the hell was he suppose to have kids with? One of Merle's bar whores? "Shouldn't you be home making that baby?"

Rick laughed and ran his hand through hair, "we already finished. I needed some fresh air."

"If you met Michonne before, you think you would have gotten together?" That was a question that had nagged him about Harley. Would she have seen back then what she sees in him now?

"I doubt it. I was a small town cop and she was a big city lawyer. I had art on my wall I got from Walmart, she got her artwork at galleries. I can't imagine how that could have worked." Rick shifted slightly. "But in this world, priorities are different. We're both survivors. She thinks things out and can put up one hell of an argument. I act and she keeps me in check. And she tough, scary tough. We have each other's backs. I literally trust her with my life, my children's lives."

"And before doesn't matter?"

"Nothing about before matters. The winners in the old world are most likely all dead. Their skills don't mean shit now."

Daryl's insecurities about himself from before mattered. He couldn't seem to shake them. He stared back up at the sky but could feel Rick's eyes on him, "what?"

"How are things going with your house guest?"

Daryl stiffened, "good."

"Good or gooooood", Rick drawled out long and slow.

"Stop. There's nothing going on."

There was something going on he just didn't know what it was. She had told him outright that she wanted him and had feelings for him but he was still having a hard time accepting that. He wasn't sure if they were in a relationship. He couldn't bring himself to do to her what people in relationships did. She seemed to have accepted the physical distance he had put between them, not getting too close during their short time together in the day, not leaning in for kisses, not wrapping her arms around him for hugs, not pressing her body next to him as they sat on the couch.

"We talk. That's it," Daryl said.

"Talking's good."

"Quit."

"I mean it's a good start."

"Stop."

"She seems to get you, knows how to talk to you. Maybe she'll know how to do other things with you too."

"Shut up man."

Rick laughed, "I'm just fucking with you. Daryl Dixon, the lone wolf."

Daryl frowned. He stared up at the townhouse and thought of the woman who lay alone in his bed, whose presence he missed. He wished he were a confident man. Wished he felt good enough for her. Wished he didn't feel guilt for wanting her. Wished... _You're not trash Daryl. You're a good man_.

"Hey," Rick said, "where'd you go?"

Daryl sighed and stood up, "someplace I never thought I would."

* * *

The sound of a large truck pulled Daryl from sleep. He looked out the window and saw the delivery truck drive through the gate and Negan, with his bat and his men, jump out. Beyond the wall more men were hanging around. Quickly pulling on his pants and t-shirt, he ran downstairs and saw Jesus in his living room staring out the window.

"You ever hear of knocking?"

Jesus turned to him, "didn't have time. Your place was close and I had to hide."

Daryl put on his shoes and headed outside, going to stand near the row of cars lined against the wall with Abraham and Sasha.

Olivia came out with a box from the pantry, Heath and Tobin followed behind with more boxes. Negan's men grabbed them and showed them to Negan before putting them in the back of the truck.

Rick walked up to Negan and nodded his head towards the retreating figures of Olivia, Heath and Tobin, "they're getting more."

"Good," Negan said, swinging his bat back and forth, a sinister smile on his face. Negan held his bat up, "My sweet Lucille likes to drink blood. Hope she doesn't have to get satisfied here."

Rick's eyes formed into slits but he said nothing and came to stand by the cars with the others. They watched Negan walk around the compound, swinging his bat, before finally settling with a few men on one of porches, complaining about the heat.

A few moments later one of Negan's men lumbered up to Rick. "He wants water. He's gonna relax a while."

Rick stepped up to the man, an incredulous look on his face. Daryl felt the tension engulf them, he kept alert in case Rick lost his cool. Sasha and Abraham were also watching, not Rick, but the rest of the Saviors loading boxes in the truck and standing guard.

"You have a problem with that?" The man moved closer to Rick.

Rick shook his head, "nah, how many waters?" His voice was low and measured in tone.

"Just the one."

"Does he want a book or magazine to read too?"

The man looked confused, "no."

Rick slowly nodded his head and walked to his house. Michonne stood at a second floor window looking down at them, holding Judith. Daryl's face dripped with disgust as he eyed Negan's man up and down. The supplies were steadily being loaded as Rick walked up with a large glass of water. The man held it up to the light inspecting it before turning and taking the water to Negan on the porch.

"They're trying to make us sweat," Abraham mumbled.

"Yeah," Rick said. "Just wait 'em out. He'll get bored and leave."

The last box got loaded and another man ran up to Negan and spoke with him. Negan turned to Rick with a smile and lifted his glass up, Rick nodded and turned his back to the men on the porch.

Both groups stood around in the waning light staring at each other, a few of the men ogled Sasha, their eyes dragging up and down her body, biting or licking their lips in her direction. Abraham moved closer to her scowling. Rick and Daryl did the same, blocking Sasha from view. Daryl knew the longer these men stayed the more likely it was something bad was going to go down.

* * *

As Harley led the group back to Alexandria they carried their usual one or two cases of bullets and moved silently through the streets. As they neared the parked cars she heard voices and stopped. She motioned for Rosita to come closer and they both crouched and went nearer.

A truck was parked in the middle of the road leading up to the gate and men were milling about talking and laughing. "Who are they?" Harley whispered.

"Saviors."

"We need to get everyone back and dump those bullets."

They headed back to the group and Harley motioned for them to follow her quickly and quietly. She went to nearest house in the neighborhood next to Alexandria and had them walk around the back, through the overgrown grass, looking for entry. The group looked around skittish, worrying after any dead that may still be near the house, lurking in the tall grass.

Taking a rock Harley began to scrape off the last bits of broken glass on a back window, pausing a few times to listen for anything inside. Once the glass was cleared she turned to the others. "When I get inside hand me the boxes," she whispered.

She hoisted herself up and climbed through, landing on a dusty floor littered with trash and broken furniture. Light filtered through the boarded up windows in house and she jumped when she spied a dead body on the floor by the door of the room she was in. It lay face up, hands curled on its chest, cobwebs growing out of its open mouth. Turning her back on the mumified form she leaned back out the window. They handed up the boxes of bullets and she stacked them along the wall. After the last one she told them to hand up her bow and quiver then she told Rosita to hand her the rifle. Rosita hesitated but after Harley explained it was either leave it here or risk it being taken by the Saviors Rosita handed it up.

They walked slowly up the road towards the open gates. Harley walked next to Rosita behind the others, trying not to stare at the men, just wanting to get inside, hoping they would leave soon. One of the men whose profile was to her caught her eye. In a small way he reminded her of Daryl with long lanky hair that covered his face, a denim vest on his back and an easy stance. The man turned to them as they walked by and smiled.

"Rosita," he said, rolling the 'R' in an exagerated fashion, "it's so good to see you again," he winked at her.

Rosita paused, glaring at him. Harley touched her arm, urging her to move forward. Both women stared at him as he turned to face them and watch them go in. The skin on the left side of his face rippled and sagged from being burned. Dwight. Harley knew immediately and her heart quickened wondering if Daryl knew he was so close.

As they passed through the gate she saw Daryl and the others along the wall. Rosita had made her way over to them but Harley had stopped and stared at all the men standing around the large delivery truck parked a few meters from the gate. Some had guns slung over their shoulders while others had knives in their belts. There were twice as many inside the gate as out. She scanned her eyes around, trying to figure out which one was Negan but didn't see anyone with a bat wrapped in barbed wire.

She looked back over at Daryl who jerked his head, silently telling her to come over. She moved to walk over to him when someone gripped her upper arm, stopping her in her tracks. She was forceably spun around to face a large man who leered down at her.

"Haven't seen you before."

Harley's skin crawled at the feel of his fingers wrapped around the bare skin of her arm. She looked down at them, fingernails blackened with dirt, the cuticles ragged, the tips caloused. She sneered and looked up at his yellowed crooked teeth then his cold blue eyes.

Scowling she wrenched herself free and began to turn when he grabbed her again, his grip now cutting off her circulation, his fingers biting deep into her. A small ripple of fear shot through her as she tried to pull away again.

"This one's strong," he said to the other guys around him. "I like 'em strong." He grabbed himself between the legs with his other hand then stroked her face with it. His stench and foulness filling her nostrils. An unease swelled in her as she found herself trapped by him, his buddies beginning to surround her.

The voices of the men who took her and April began to echo through her head. Their laughter, the crude things they said, their hands on her skin, their mouths, their tongues.

"Let her go," Daryl's voice came harsh and angry from behind her.

"Think I'll take her back with me, make her my bitch," the man said, squeezing so tight on her arm Harley winced as he pulled her closer to him.

"Let her go," Daryl repeated, more slowly and threatening. Harley could now feel Daryl close behind her.

"Or-", the man started when she brought her knee up hard and sharp to his groin. He doubled over calling her a fucking bitch before dropping to his knees holding himself, his face contorting with pain. One of his friends strode up to Harley, fists clenched. Daryl stepped forward and hit him solid in the face, sending him down. She found herself being shuffled backwards behind Rick and Abraham.

The other Saviors began to come towards them. Behind the Saviors Heath and Tobin crept forward, ready to fight. Harley, Sasha and Rosita stepped forward, knives and machetes at the ready. Fifteen Saviors encircled by eight Alexandrians.

"Enough," Negans voice rang out loud and authoritative. He walked in the middle of the groups, his bat resting on his shoulders. "What in the fuck happened here?"

"Tell your men to keep their hands off our people," Daryl spat at him.

Negan looked down at the man Harley had kneed, still clutching his groin, kneeling on the ground, panting. "What the fuck did you do?" Negan asked him, his bat in the man's face, his voice calm.

The man glared at Harley who glared right back. Negan stepped up to her and gently took her hand in his. "I want to apologize for my men. Sometimes they tend to forget themselves. Don't act right." He smiled at her, a soft apologetic smile that did not reach his eyes.

Jason Waters. Negan's eyes reminded her of Jason Waters' eyes. She saw him while visiting her father in jail. He sat at the table next to them, playing his fingers against those of a weary, dowdy looking woman. Her dad whispered that he was in there for a breaking and entering but he suspected there was something much darker about Jason. He was certain Jason was in that house, so late at night, to rape and murder not steal. He said Jason was rumored to keep pictures of dead women hidden in his cell. When she looked over at the man speaking sweet nothings to his run down companion he looked over at her, locking her in his predator stare until her dad stood up abruptly and gave him a look so menacing Harley thought he would stride over and start beating Jason . He gave her father an oily smile before averting his eyes. Her dad stared him down the rest of visit, making sure Jason didn't look her way again.

Negan let Harley's hand go, still smiling. He gave her a wink before turning to Rick. "I guess we're all done here then. No harm no foul, right." Rick just stared, darting his eyes periodically back at the other men. "Come on Rick, don't be a fucking dick. No fucking harm, no fucking foul. Right?"

"Right," Rick said tightly.

"Fucking right it's right." Negan turned to his men. "Lets go."

Harley wiped the hand Negan touched on her pants and watched the Saviors pack into the back of the truck. No one spoke a word or moved as they watched the truck drive through the gates. Tobin closed it behind them and walked silently back to his house.

"Do you bruise easily?" she heard Abraham ask from next to her.

"That's just how tight that asshole was holding her," Sasha told him. "You okay?" She asked, looking with concern at Harley.

Harley balled her shaking hands into a fist and nodded. "Just need some ice."

"We leave first thing tomorrow morning," Rick said. "I'm tired of these fuckers. Today's the last day they get anything from us."

"The bullets," Rosita called out to him.

"We'll pick 'em up on our way out." Rick walked back to his house, going inside and slamming the door.

Harley turned and started walking towards to townhouse, angry, her arm sore. She felt sickened from the Savior's touch but more so from Negans. He was a serpents tongue, as her grandmother use to say. Slick and fast, beguiling and deadly. A sociopath with an army.

Daryl watched her go. He hid his face behind his hair, not knowing if he should follow or leave her be.

"Give her a few minutes alone," Sasha said from behind him.

He turned to face her, "you think?"

Sasha nodded. "He rubbed his dick and then her face. I'd need a moment alone after that. To wash, cry, cuss, break some shit."

"Would you want Abraham to leave you alone?"

"I would need him to. Abraham would make it all about him. Not to say he wouldn't care, but it would be about how seeing that made him feel. I would need to concentrate on how I felt. What going through that did to me. Not him."

He nodded. He liked Sasha. She was a straight shooter, she never spoke much but when she did it was with purpose and meaning.

Daryl sat on the grass next to the lake. He had started moving towards Harley the moment the Savior grabbed her arm but Abraham had stopped him. His chest was tight watching them but when she yanked free he expected her to join him shortly after. When her arm was grabbed the second time he saw her body flinch, he knew she was in pain and in trouble. He had pushed passed Abraham, needing to do something, not able to watch her get handled roughly any longer. When the man rubbed his hands on her face something in Daryl exploded.

He studied the man's face. Beady blue eyes and a long nose that had been broken a few times, a shaved head and a knife tattoo on his neck. Daryl silently vowed he would kill this man.

Lighting a cigarette he decided when he was done smoking he would go inside.

* * *

The water in the shower was scalding. Steam rose all around Harley as she scrubbed her skin, especially her arms and face. She could see the outline of the man's fingers in the bruise on her arm.

She lowered the temperature on the water and stood under it, finally able to feel herself relax. The anger subsiding. The shame gone. A knock came at the door, she knew it was Daryl and knew he would not be coming in. She turned off the water and wrapped herself in a towel and opened the door. He stepped back, looking not at her but at the floor.

"Just wanted to see how you were doing."

"Good," she went to the counter and began to rub oil on her arms. She raised her leg to top of the counter and began to oil it, the cloth falling to her hips exposing the round underside of her bottom. He turned his back to her.

"Can you do me a favor?" She asked to his back.

"Sure."

"Can I borrow one of your t-shirts?"

"Yeah, I'll leave it on the bed for you." He began to close the door behind him then stopped. "You sure you're okay?"

His back was still to her and she stood in silence behind him. She wasn't going to speak until he faced her. Ever since she showed him her scars he had been strange. Never looking at her, never touching her, never kissing her. And since they were now on different shifts, never sleeping with her. Only when she would pretend to fall asleep on the couch in between their shifts did he touch her, laying her on his lap and stroking her hair and back.

She tried not to over think it. She attributed it to his decent nature, the same way he never tried anything when they first met or the way he acted when he woke up with his lips on her at the farmhouse. But at the same time she wondered if despite his admitting to having feelings for her that maybe he didn't. Maybe he couldn't after knowing her story.

He turned to her slowly, from the corner of his eye he could see her legs were down. He faced her, her eyes sad, her mouth more down turned.

"I'm not damaged," she said softly.

"I never said you were."

She moved closer to him and put her hand on the door, "I'm not going to crack under your looks or touch. I'm not damaged." The door closed and he was left standing with her words.

Harley came out the bathroom and found Daryl sitting on the bed holding a shirt for her. She put the shirt on over the towel and took the towel off before getting panties from the drawer and putting it on.

Daryl couldn't help but smile looking at her being swallowed up in his shirt. He grabbed her hand and ran a finger lightly along the bruise on her arm. "Does it hurt?"

"A bit. The worst part is I can still feel his fingers wrapped around it."

He pulled her closer and fought off his guilt and he brought his lips up to her bruise and began to kiss it, all around her arm, softly. "Maybe now you can feel that instead."

Harley's heart quickened and she sat next to him, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his neck. He stroked her back with one hand and pulled her hand up to his mouth with the other, kissing her along the scar on her wrist.

"I don't think you're damaged Harley. I just don't want to be like those other men. I don't want to do things to you that you don't want me to"

She pulled back and looked at him, "you won't and if you do I'll let you know."

He grabbed her by the back of the neck and pulled her into him, kissing her softly, reveling in the feel of her lips again. She held him tightly as he began to kiss her more deeply, parting her lips, slipping his tongue into her mouth, caressing her hips.

They lay down on their sides, her leg around his hip, facing one another. Stroking her face he stared into her eyes before bending forward and kissing her eyelids. He looked back at her, his face was tight with desire. Hers was soft and serene. He grabbed her face in his hands and brushed his thumb along her lips.

"If you need some time alone let me know."

"I'm good."

He kissed her again, "you're good?"

"Yeah."

"You really took that guy down. He probably shit his pants when you connected." They laughed.

Harley moaned and covered her face, "I need to apologize to Jesus."

"Why?"

"When I came in he was here and tried to check on me. I yelled at him and kicked him out."

"Good. Shouldn't have come in here in the first place," Daryl said wishing he could have seen that.

"You don't like him huh?"

"I like him fine but he's an asshole. Stole our truck first day we met him, kicked Rick's and my ass, then ended up letting our truck stacked with supplies slide into a lake. Asshole Kung-Fu houdini motherfucker."

Harley shook with laughter. "He kicked your ass?" she choked out, unable to contain how funny that was to her.

"At first but we got him in the end." He watched her, "you can stop laughing now," he smiled, loving the sound of her laughter.

"Tell me in minute detail exactly how he kicked your ass."

Daryl rolled on top of her, tickling her waist as she squealed and twisted under him.

"Okay, okay, I stop. I give," she shouted still laughing.

He rested between her legs, arms on either side of her head, palms flat on the bed. Her smile was large as she looked up at him, breathing hard. _Beautiful_. The word ran through his head. He could easily pull her shirt up and her underwear down. But not today. The guilt crept back in him as he looked at her flush and smiling face, her eyes sparkling with joy. She had been attacked, mauled and man handled. It seemed wrong to caress the soft folds between her legs, put his mouth to the soft mounds of her breast, stroke her with the rigid hardness of his cock.

Harley felt nothing but happiness laying beneath him. Daryl loomed over her giving her that sexy look of his, the one that she first noticed as they drove from the apartment to Alexandria, the one that made her quiver. She sat up on her elbows and pushed her face forward to capture his mouth that he gave her willingly, lovingly, making her sigh languidly into his mouth.

Her legs wrapped around his hips and she pulled him down on her, playing her tongue against his, moaning as she pushed his erection against her, grinding it against her clit. She was letting him know she wanted more than just kisses right now.

His hand stroked her breast through the shirt she wore. Sliding his body down he sucked her nipple through the cotton as she gripped him tighter with her legs, shuddering and gyrating against him.

She wanted this, she would let him know if she needed him to stop he reminded himself. He was unsure of how far he wanted this to go, wondering how much she was willing to give him.

His hand slid up her shirt and he felt her breasts, delicate and supple, and squeezed them, teasing her nipples between his fingers. Her response told him her nipples were very sensitive, an erogenous zone for her. He watched her eyes closed as he played with them, her mouth slightly open as she melted under his touch.

Her skin was silky under his lips as he kissed her stomach lightly. His hands gripped the waist of her panties and pulled it down slightly as he kissed her hip bones before he moved further down to the crease between her legs and her groin licking along it.

He covered her entire sex with his mouth outside the thin panties she wore and breathed hot air on her, causing her to let out a long moan before licking slow and hard along her slit, feeling the unbearable wetness of her soaking the cloth.

An electric shock ran through her when his tongue started circling her clit then flicked back and forth against it before running up her slit again. Her back arched and her hands fisted his hair, pulling it almost painfully.

Daryl groaned, elated at the feel of her under his tongue and the sounds of her moans. He used his lips to grip her clit through the panties and rubbed his finger along her wetness, excited as she rasped and bucked against him. Through the thin cloth he pushed a finger inside her, groaning and aching, longing to really feel her, to taste her.

Harley rolled in pleasure. The pressure of his tongue against her was delicious. He began licking in hard, fast circles as his finger pressed into her, building up pressure in her, making her steadily cry out louder.

The aching in his groin became unbearable. He adjusted his body, unzipped his pants, freeing himself and started stroking his erection slowly. Her panties were drenched as his finger pushed further into her feeling her heating up the cotton around his finger.

She started squeezing her thighs around his head, nearly suffocating him, and gyrating against his face. He increased his stroking, gasping as he pleasured her and himself. Unable to hold back any longer he dragged her panties to the side until her felt her hot skin and grunted as he felt the swollen nub against his wet tongue and he licked the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Harley cried out as he sucked her clit into his mouth and his free hand slid up her body to grab her breast, pinching her nipple. He licked her steadily until she erupted, climaxing and grinding herself against his face before relaxing, shuddering at the last remnants of her orgasm and cooing softly. His fingers ran up her slick folds, covered in her juices and he sucked them, tasting her and moaning loudly.

Daryl gathered the sheet around himself and sucked hard on her stomach as he pulled his own orgasm out of himself, grunting as he spilled out into the sheet. His eyes came into focus on the bruise forming on her stomach where his lips had been. He brought his face up to hers and they kissed, greedily probing each others mouths.

He got up, gathered up the soiled sheet and left the room. Harley stood and went to the dresser and pulled a fresh pair of underwear out and slipped off the ones she wore. Daryl watched her change from the doorway, a clean sheet in his hands. He moved back to the bed, spreading the sheet over it.

"Let's get some dinner," he said pulling her into a kiss.

"You're blushing Daryl Dixon," she said smiling up at him.

Looking back at her he smiled shyly, "yeah I am."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9 -

The RV was quiet as it moved slowly down the abandoned streets. Rosita sat in the passenger seat next to Rick who drove. In the back Sasha and Abraham sat side by side at the dining table and Michonne, Daryl and Harley sat across from them on the long bench.

Daryl had explained to Harley that even though Rick was with Michonne, Rosita sat up front to not have to be around Abraham and Sasha. Harley wondered what it would be like to remain at Alexandria if Daryl had left her for another woman. Would she endure the anger and pain of having to watch them together day in and day out. No, she would leave and go back on her own.

Harley stared out the window and watched as they moved from the residential area into the farmland, driving past old fields and run down abandoned houses that sat few and far between.

A tingle grew between her legs every time she thought about last night. She was embarrassed to look at Daryl, afraid everyone would take one look at her and read all the details in her face. She hadn't been touched by another person in five years. She hadn't touched herself in three. And she had so enjoyed the touches she had received. She was so relaxed with Daryl. Never doubting one moment that he had her best interest at heart. Knowing that all he did was sincere and not some game he playing. She doubted he even knew how to play those games.

A sharp pull at her center occured again as she thought of her orgasm, the first release after a long time of thinking she would never experience arousal again. Thinking that all romantic inclination towards another person would become a story from her past, a myth to tell younger survivors, like the myth of civilization. Tall tales that seemed too fantastical in this depressed new world to have ever really existed.

A few dead could be seen every so often wandering the land aimlessley, coming to life at the sound of the vehicle going by and making an attept to reach it before it was gone.

Daryl had gotten up to stand, balancing himself by pressing the palms of his hands on the roof, watching out the front window. He couldn't take sitting next to Harley and not being able to touch her the way Abraham was touching Sasha, playing their fingers between each others as Sasha leaned against him.

He watched as she stared out the window, a serene smile painted on her face. _I did that_ , he thought arogantly. He hid his smile behind his hair and he put his head down. It was a strange sensation knowing he was wanted. Desired.

They had spent the night in each others embrace kissing until both of them had swollen lips. She had placed her hand down his pants and stroked him gently with soft hands as he played with her breasts, moaning around her nipple, his arms around her, dragging his fingers along her back.

Hanging in each others embrace as they kissed and stroked each others skin until they grew tired and fell alseep.

He had never before taken the time to please a woman, to hold her and kiss her while touching her. He had never cared whether she came or not or faced her to see if she enjoyed him. He did for Harley. He loved watching her savor his touch. He wanted to see her face as she came because of him.

He flushed thinking about the night before. He wished he could take her back to the camper bed and just have her. All of her.

It was baking inside the RV, all the windows were open but only hot air blew. They had been driving for a few hours, taking time to remove roadblocks while Harley stood on the roof with her bow watching for walkers. Sasha sometimes stood up there with Harley, watching for the living.

Daryl moved to the front and sat between the driver's and passenger's seats. He bounced gently as the vehicle drove over the uneven surface of the long neglected road. "How much longer?" He studied the map on the console trying to figure out where they were.

"A few more hours, we'll be there late afternoon," Rick said glancing down at him. "This is a different route from the one Jesus and I took. Don't want to risk others who may be watching knowing what we're up to."

"Does she know what's going on," Daryl jerked his head towards Rosita who scowled down at him.

"She has a name you know and yes. He's been filling me in."

"Sorry chica, forgot my manners," he looked at Rosita then smiled. "You keep looking like that your face may freeze that way." Rosita rolled her eyes and looked back out the window.

"You think Jesus is gonna come through?" Daryl was in need of a distraction. He hated being cooped up with all these people. Hated being so near to Harley and not being able to touch her. Hated waiting.

"Yes. Thing about the Hilltop is Gregory isn't a strong leader. He may fight Jesus on this and the people who can fight may be resistant to disobeying their leader."

"Not fighting isn't really an option though. Negan already sent Gregory's people to kill him. Next time he'll convince them to kill innocent people. That guy's a total psycho."

"That he is. I believe in Jesus. He'll come through."

"By hook or by crook," Daryl sighed.

They moved slowly along the freeway heading into D.C. Everyone kept alert in case they ran into trouble. The freeway was litered with forgotten possessions, cars, trucks and skeletons. In the distance the famous momuments of Washington stretched out along the skyline.

Rick pulled the RV to a stop near an off ramp and turned it off. He turned toward Daryl and Harley. "I need you two to keep a look out. The Kingdom has, uh, escorts who will come to meet us. They'll be on horseback."

Harley and Daryl walked outside.

"Horseback?" Harley said looking around. A lone dead man was travelling the road beneath them but they ignored him. "I thought this city was going to be the promise land. I moved this way thinking this would be the one place they had this shit under control."

They leaned on the side of the RV, side by side. Keeping their ears open, scanning the off ramp, watching for anything coming their way.

"Us too. Well actually, it was Eugene."

Harley turned to him, "Eugene?"

"Had us convinced he was some scientist in communication with scientists here, working on a cure." Daryl spat, a sour look on his face. "He was just a liar and a coward. It got Abraham to protect his ass."

"Desperate times call for desperate measure," Harley said absentmindedly. Eugene may have lied, and he may be a coward, but he was smart enough to figure out how to make bullets.

As if reading her mind Daryl said, "Atleast he's an asset now. His bullets put us at an advantage."

Darly moved to press his shoulder against hers and grabbed her hand, getting a jolt feeling her small fingers lace through his.

"You okay? About Dwight?" Even though he seemed to understand the reasoning behind using Dwight, she couldn't imagine all his anger was gone or that he didn't still have doubts.

"I'm good. As long as I don't have to see that man. Can't give any other guarentees beyond that."

She nodded. It was all she could expect really. She could see the Washington Momument in the distance looming large on the horizon. "You think the president is still alive? The people in power?"

"Whose to say. Half the goverment could be in some bunker under the White House. Maybe he's circling the skies in his airplane. Who knows."

"It would be interesting to take a look in the city. Maybe there are survivors in the monuments."

"We could dig around one day. You'd think if anything, D.C. would still be standing."

Harley kicked at the ground. She often thought about going in the city but knew, somehow, if it fell that means it was overrun with the dead. People said they had bombed all the major cities hoping to contain the outbreak and most of the military had fallen. Still, seeing the Big Pencil in the distance, she felt the tug of the capital calling to her.

The clip clop of horseshoes became audible in the distance. Daryl dropped her hand and banged on the side of the RV. They both readied their weapons, alert.

The crew all came out to view the members of the Kingdom. They watched the figures approaching in the distance.

"Keep your weapons out of site. We're not here to fight," Rick said and Harley returned her arrows to her quiver and slung her bow over her shoulder.

The men on horseback rode closer. They wore football pads painted silver and black over their clothes and football helmets fashioned into helms. They carried spears in their hands and had swords in their belts.

"What in the entire fuck," Abraham said as the men got closer.

"Greetings," one of them said, reminding Harley of the heralds from the Renaissance fairs. "Come, the Kingdome awaits."

The group got back in the vehicle and Rick turned it around and followed behind the Kingdom men.

"Hey Rick," Daryl called. "These assholes really riding around like knights?"

"Daryl, they aren't acting like knights. They are knights." Rick was smiling at the ridculousness of it all.

Daryl gave Harley a look and she shrugged. "It's a crazy world," was all she could think to say.

They drove slowly behind the horses before they came to a long wall made of both metal and wood that surrounded a large highschool. Behind the wall, school busses were lined up. A flag pole stood further back waving a deteriorated Amercan flag.

Rick stopped the RV in front of the wall as the knights dismounted by the gate. They grabbed all their gear and waited with the knights until the gate opened and they all walked in. There were guard posts staggered out along the wall and the front of the building was separated from the rear by a chain link fence lined with spikes.

One of the escorts turned to the group, "wait here for his majesty;" and they walked off. Everyone exchanged looks. Harley felt this was a sure sign the world had gone mad. Kingdoms, knights and kings.

They waited in front of the large steps that led up to the entrance of the school. The front doors opened and a large, handsome man stepped out. He was older, perhaps mid fifties, and tall. He stood over six feet and had a strong, muscular frame. He wore his mostly gray hair in dreadlocks and carried a staff in one hand and a chained tiger in the other.

"Fuck me he has a tiger," Abraham muttered.

"I see we have guests so late in the afternoon," the man's voice boomed deep and regal as he began his descent down the stairs. "Rick Grimes has returned to us and with the soldiers he promised."

He stood before the group, looking at each and everyone of them in turn. He stepped up to Sasha and took her hand and gave it a kiss. "And who is this enchanting creature before me?"

Sasha yanked her hand from him, took a step back and raised her rifle at him.

"What is this outrage," King Ezekiel sputtered dramtically. "This is an insult."

Abraham put his finger on the point of her gun and slowly lowered it to the ground. "He's just letting you know how beautiful you are darling," he said, keeping a wary eye on Ezekiel's tiger who started to get agitated.

Michonne had her hand on the hilt of her katana as Ezekial bent down to the now roaring creature, "Shhh, Shiva, no. It's okay girl, they didn't know." He turned back to Sasha and smiled, "I was only greeting you my dear. Chivarly should never be met with hostility."

Daryl and Harley exchanged another look and Daryl shook his head slowly in disbelief.

Ezekiel shook Abraham's hand, clapped Rick on the back in welcome and bowed to Michonne, also taking her hand and giving it a kiss in greeting.

He shook Daryl's hand next and as he bowed before Harley, Daryl scowled. "You too are an enchanting maiden," Ezekiel told her, looking into her eyes.

Harley's mouth spread into a wide smile and she turned to Daryl's angry glare and shot her eyebrows up. _This is so fucking ridiculous_ , she thought, trying desperately not to laugh in this large man's face.

"And such a beautiful smile," Ezekiel said, still holding her hand, not understanding she wasn't flattered at all.

Daryl moved closer to her, his hardened face looking at this king, letting him know that Harley was off limits. Ezekiel seemed to get the hint and quickly moved on to Rosita, whose hand he did not release for a time, as he said a prose to her beauty.

Ezekiel moved back to the centre of the group and clapped his hands together. "Come, I will show you to your sleeping quarters. Once you have settled in we shall make our way to the dining hall. Such an occasion calls for a feast."

They followed him into the building that still looked very much like a school. The lockers had been pulled from the walls but the doors were labled with things like 'Storage', 'Main Office', and 'Conference'. They moved up stairs to the second floor and down the left wing to the end. "Here are our guest quarters," Ezekiel boomed out. "Shortly we shall rendevous in the main hallway. I will be sending my assistant to show you a few things."

He pointed at a door and turned to Rick, "this is where you and your lady love shall be staying." He turned to the others. "Who else wants to room together?" Abraham stepped forward and Ezekial pointed to the room across from Ricks.

Daryl thought about speaking up but didn't. No one knew he and Harley did not sleep separately in his home and he didn't want them to, not yet. He wasn't ready for the scrutiny. Ezekiel showed Rosita her room a few doors down and then Harley and Darly, who would room across the hall from each other.

The room she was placed in looked like it may have been an office. Against the wall to the right of the door was a good sized cot with the sheets folded at the foot. At the head of the cot was a desk with a lamp. On the other side of the wall were two of the lockers that must have come from the halls, which served as closets.

There was a window in the center of the back wall opposite the door. She went to open it. Outside she could see the wall went around the entire property even though there was also a fence surrounding the back of the school. There were lookout points every few yards on the wall. On part of the sports field she saw a combination of trailer homes and converted shipping containers. A few of them had small yards and she could see people going in and out as well as mulling around. One side of the field was a dedicated vegetable farm, further in the distance she spied a horse stable.

It was a nice set up, aside from all the dramatics. There was a knock at her door and she opened it to Daryl.

"I got the same set up," he said looking around. "It's not bad here but shit that guy is strange." He watched her pulling the fitted sheet over the mattress. "Hey, should I have asked for a room together?"

"It's fine."

"It's just that...I'm not ready to explain myself to them. Not yet." She said nothing to him and smoothed the top sheet out and fluffed her pillow.

"Hey," he stopped her and made her face him. "I'm not embarressed by you. I've just never done this type of thing. It feels strange right now, but if you tell me, I'll tell everyone right now and get us a room."

She smiled. "No. When you're ready. But I can't guarentee King Ezekiel won't woo me to his tower."

"Not funny," he said moving behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. She shivered at the feel of his breath on the back of her neck.

There was a knock at the door. Harley slipped out of Daryl's grip and opened it. A young man stood before her smiling. His jet black hair stood up in short spikes "I'm to show you the amenities," he said. Daryl came up behind her. "Are you the gentleman placed across the hall?"

Daryl only stared. Harley nodded. "Yes."

"Oh good, come with me if you will," the young man said in a clipped manner that didn't fit with his camaflage pants and black t-shirt.

They followed him out into the hall and saw the rest of the group waiting. "This way," the young man said leading them towards the staircase. Next to the staircase were two bathrooms on either side of the hall. "One is for men, the other for women. There is a shower inside. You'll find towels and a bar of soap in your lockers. Please keep your shower time to a minimum." He looked at his watch. "You have about twenty minutes if you want to get washed up before dinner. I will be collecting you and escorting you to the meeting point." The young man was only met with impassive stares from the group.

"I'm Sean, by the way," he smiled brightly. "Sean Huang, but everyone calls me Cola because that use to be all I drank."

Abraham let out an audible sigh. He looked like he was trying his best not to throw Cola down the stairs. Cola walked them back to their rooms. Harley decided to go wash her hands and face and wait for dinner time.

She met Sasha at the sink of the bathroom. "This is madness," she said to the woman.

Sasha smiled and nodded. "I'm trying my best not to shoot everyone here. Its so ridiculous. I couldn't live here."

Harley laughed.

* * *

Daryl sat on the floor in Rick and Michonne's room. They too were in an office, the main difference between this room and the single room was it had a real bed and more lockers.

Michonne sat on the bed, sharpening her katana listening to Daryl and Rick speak. Daryl was having doubts about this group. "These guys are here playing Camelot, you think they really know how to fight?" he asked Rick.

"We'll find out tomorrow when we train them. A few of them look strong and they've had this place since the beginning and have faced herds."

"We really gotta call that guy King Ezekiel? That's some bullshit man."

Michonne smiled over at Daryl.

"No, Ezekiel will do. I think that part is just for show anyway. He's out there, but he's not crazy."

"Not completely crazy you mean."

"They have a good thing going here," Michonne said. "I think they'll do whatever needs to be done to get out from under Negan and start living in peace again."

"I gotta say, it's better than the Hilltop. They have a lot going on here, a safe enclosure, electricity, and people more willing to defend themselves than the Hilltop," Rick said.

A knock came and a voice floated through the door, "it's time". They got up and filed into the hallway. Daryl saw Harley was with Rosita and decided to stay with Rick and Michonne.

They walked back down to the entryway of the school and saw the doors were now barricaded by lockers. Cola explained that there were bricks inside them to weigh them down and the stairs outside now had spikes blocking their access in case some roamers got through the gate.

Ezekiel came out to greet them. His tiger was not with him. When Rosita asked where she was he said Shiva had already eaten and was now resting in her enclosure.

He stood between Harley and Rosita, "I would love nothing more than to escort you two lovely ladies to dinner." He hooked his arms through theirs at the elbow and walked towards the cafeteria at the end of the hall.

 _Dick_ , Daryl thought, keeping his face blank so no one could see his seething.

The cafeteria was large and filled with long tables crowded with people. Candles were placed all along the tables and were the only lights used. They made their way to a banquet table along the wall perpendicular to the other tables. A few of the knights were already sitting there. Ezekiel sat in the middle with Rosita next to him, then Harley, Cola and Abraham, and Sasha. Michonne, Rick and Daryl sat on the opposite side of the table facing them.

The smell of roasting meat filled the air. At the back of the cafeteria beyond a door to outside which stood ajar, an open flame and an animal being roasted above it on a spit could be seen.

Ezekiel stood up and got everyone's attention, the room went quiet. "Let us welcome our guests from Alexandria and invite them to enjoy the boar we have prepared in their honor. Tonight we feast and celebrate a new alliance and coming freedom from tyranny and fear."

Glasses were being raised at the tables and people were shouting "welcome" and "here here". They were instructed to grab their trays and make their way over to the serving area where servers dished out fresh vegetables and roasted boar on their trays.

They sat and began eating, Daryl tearing into his meat like a man starved. Harley smiled at him and wondered if one of these Kingdom men would be willing to teach him some table manners.

Ezekiel came back to the table with a pitcher of beer. "Who would like some?" he held the pitcher up. "We make it ourselves. It's quite good."

Daryl and Abraham tried some. Daryl smacked his lips, "not bad," he said, draining his glass.

"Drink up, enjoy, in a few days we go to war and who knows what will become of us then," Ezekiel filled Daryl's glass.

"Tell me about this place," Michonne said, pouring a glass of beer for herself.

"I found this place shorty after the outbreak. There was already a group here, some former teachers, students and their families. We worked to put up the wall with items from the metal shop and scraps our runners found. A science teacher, Bradley, hooked up the solar panels and got all the utilities on line. We try not to use them too much. We would find people on runs and bring them back and just built a community. A few people still use the classrooms as housing but many have set up outside in trailers and converted containers. We're hoping to start building small cabins in the near future when we don't have to fear the Saviors."

"And the tiger," Rosita asked. "Did you just find her?"

Ezekiel smiled. "I brought Shiva into this world. I wish I could say I found her in the wild and tamed her but the truth is I worked at the zoo and was able to save her and she has saved me many times over in turn."

Ezekiel stood up and held his hand out to Rosita, "my dear, it would be an honor to show you around this Kingdom of mine."

Rosita smiled and took his hand and they gathered their trays and walked from the table together.

"That's my cue," Abraham said grabbing his and Sasha's trays. "Think we're gonna head up. Sasha was on duty until this morning and needs some rest."

"How about you?" Rick asked Michonne. "You tired."

"I guess," she said. "So much going on I didn't even notice."

They stood and said goodnight to Daryl and Harley.

"You okay?" Daryl asked Harley, pouring himself the last of the beer from the pitcher.

"Yeah, it's amazing. Seeing all these people in the community who share their meals together. Its like a real family."

Daryl looked around at the people eating together in the candle light, laughing and chatting.

"Hey kid," he said to Cola. "Ya'll eat like this all the time, together in the cafeteria."

Cola nodded, "it keeps us together. We try to get people to mix up seating so everyone can get to know one another, builds comradery."

"It's pretty nice. We should do the same at Alexandria"

Harley nodded. "What exactly do you do around here Cola?"

The boy swallowed his food and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, "I help Ezekiel. Getting assignments to different groups, keeping the guest quarters clean, assist with inventory and distribution. Things like that."

"So you're his right hand man kind of," Harley smiled gently at the young man who beamed at the notion.

"I do what I can. I was on the student counsel before all this went down. I knew all the ins and outs of the school and the grounds. When we set up the Kingdom I helped ration everything out and get groups together. I plan on running this place one day."

Harley lifted her glass, "here's to you, future heir to the throne." Cola toasted her with his own glass and Daryl rolled his eyes.

She stood up with her tray but Daryl took it from her with a bow, "allow me my lady:"

They walked into the hallway that was lit by small solar powered garden lights stuck in small pots of soil which went all the way down the hall and up the stairway.

"This is good thing you all are doing," Harley told him. "Getting rid of the Saviors and giving people the chance to build again without fear of the living."

"I just hope everyone's up to it."

They walked back to their rooms and found Rick and Abraham in the hall talking. Daryl was disappointed. He had planned to follow Harley in her room and be with her all night but he couldn't bring himself to go in with Rick and Abe watching.

He walked Harley to her room and stood by her door as she walked in. "I guess I'll see you in the morning," he said lamely.

"Yeah."

"Well, goodnight."

Harley looked at him. His posture was tense as he looked back at her, seemingly reluctent to leave. "Daryl?"

"Yeah," he stepped a bit into the room.

She walked to him and gave him a soft lingering kiss on the lips.

Daryl groaned internally as she closed the door. He stared at it for a moment before turning to Rick and Abe who had stopped talking and were now watching him. "See you tomorrow," he said to them before going into his room.

He couldn't sleep. He lay in his bed in the dark tossing and thinking. They were going to war. War! Negan's crew was fierce and organized and brutal.

Ezekiel had told him to enjoy because they couldn't say what would happen to them in the coming days. Daryl realised that he could die. When he left the group at Alexandria to fight Negan he might never return.

It had never dawned on him before. Out in the open he never thought about the consequences. Never thought about getting bit, shot or stabbed. Never thought that when he ventured out he was risking his life. He just did what he had to do.

Even after he had never dwelled on the dangers he had faced. He had got through it. He would go on to face another day. Not thinking of himself as long as he kept those he cared about safe. He sometimes felt his own life wasn't worth much to contemplate the loss of it.

But now, as he lay in the dark alone in his bed at the Kingdom, he wondered if his life was worthless after all. There seemed to be something out there worth living for. Something to grab hold of and not let go. Something to look forward to.

He now felt all too well how short time was. Had he enjoyed his time here? Had he made the most of his life? Had he done all he wanted, or atleast, could do? The answer was no. And if his time was to be made shorter by the coming events he did not want to walk into them with a litany of regrets.

His mind wouldn't stop racing. Wouldn't go silent so he could get to sleep. He lay wide awake in the dark room mulling it all over, hoping sleep would come to him soon.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Warning** : Full Smut Ahead. Enjoy ;-)

* * *

Chapter 10 -

Harley sat with her back against the table that stood behind the cot reading a book. The lamp had a very low wattage bulb and at times she strained to see the words on the page.

Cool wind blew through the open window as rain pounded down outside. She would have preferred to be at Alexandria right now, curled up in Daryl's arms, listening to the howl of wind and rush of water falling from the sky, slamming against the ground. She was reminded of the night they spent in the attic.

She closed her book and placed it on the table behind her and shut the light off. She was settling into sleep when a soft knock came to the door. She turned the light back on and went to answer it. She opened the door wearing only her faded black tank top and panties. Daryl stood on the other side in a pair of jeans, his upper body and feet bare.

Harley stepped back and let him enter. He closed the door slowly behind him and stared at her, a strange look on his face. He almost looked as if he might cry.

"Are you alright?" She stepped towards him, resting her palm on the rough hair on his face and grazing her thumb along his cheek.

He had been thinking about death and the loss of time and regrets. He didn't want to fight a war with Negan wondering about what ifs. He didn't want to put his life on the line not knowing whether or not he got all he could out of this life. _Who knows what will become of us_ , Ezekiel had said.

Daryl turned his head and kissed the palm of her hand and held her face in his hands, hooking his fingers behind her head, pulling her face towards his and began kissing her, parting her lips and playing his tongue against hers. His kiss was full of need and urgency. He moved his hands down to the small of her back and pulled her into him, holding her tight, never wanting to let her go.

She could barely breathe under the clasp of his arms. His kisses were frantic, desperate. Something was wrong, this wasn't like him. Seeming to sense her discomfort he slowed down, his frenzied kisses became calm and generous. His grip on her loosened and he stroked her back and her tension eased as she responded to him.

Her lips were so soft and pliable under his. He reached one hand up and ran a finger over them, his tongue followed in its wake. He captured her mouth in his again, eliciting sharp moans from her as she traced her fingers up and down his bare back. The feel of his tongue in her mouth sent electric currents through her.

His hands slid gently down the curve of her backside and grabbed the underside of it, massaging it while sucking on her bottom lip, nervous, hoping every touch he gave pleased her. Tantalized by the feel of the flesh giving way to the pressure of his fingers he spread her ass cheeks apart which in turn stretched her opening. She quaked and dampness began to spread between her legs

"Oooohhhhhhhh," she breathed into his mouth, the sound pricking his penis and it began to stiffen. He continued to massage her, bringing her cheeks together and pulling them apart as he began kissing her neck, travelling down to her shoulders, nibbling on her skin.

Her aching sex quivered, yearning to be touched, rubbed, penetrated. She breathed heavily, dragging her fingers along his back.

Looking down, he watched his hand pushing and pulling her bottom. Lifting her her panties between her cheeks he groaned as he watching her apple bottom rise and fall with the manipulation of his hands.

Daryl shut his eyes and moved his lips back to hers and started giving her soft, tender kisses before grabbing the bottom of her shirt and pulling it up. She stepped back and allowed him to bring it over her head and toss it on the floor.

They stood facing each other, looking into each other's eyes, her biting her bottom lip and him eyeing the plumpness of her breast, the dark nipples hard and ready. His hands shook slightly. Never before had he ever faced the person he was going to be with, have them stand before him naked and wanting. He pushed out his thoughts of doubt and reminded himself that she did want him. Thoughts of her under his mouth the night before swam in his mind as he stepped towards her.

He held her bosom lightly in his hands, brushing his thumbs along her nipples, feeling them bend under the pressure of his thumbs then spring back when he brushed past them. Her skin soft and supple, the sienna color glowing in the dim light of the lamp.

"Do you want this?"

She slowly nodded her head and whispered, "yes." Her face was aflame with desire, her chest heaving with her heavy breathing as her body crawled with arousal.

Daryl bent his head down and began to nip the skin on her breasts, first one and then the other. Her skin was warm and velvety. "Ahhhhhhh," Harley breathed out to his delight. Every noise she made pushed him on to create more, bring her more enjoyment.

His mouth moved over to her nipple and licked a circle around it lightly before sucking it and flicking his tongue against it. More sounds of pleasure rang out as she ran her fingers through his hair, grazing her nails along his scalp. With the other nipple he sucked it harder and she hissed and squeezed her legs together putting pressure on her clit. She let out a low whine and threw her head back panting, her nipple firmly in his mouth being flicked roughly by his tongue.

He looked up at her, her head tilted back and pinched her nipple lightly "You like that?" He licked her breast. He knew she did. She was extra sensitive to having them played with, but he wanted to hear her tell him.

"Yes," she breathed out.

"Should I continue?" His voice was deep and gravely. Sexy.

"Ohhhh please," she purred as he pushed her breasts together and swept from one to the other, kissing, licking, sucking. Sending waves of excitement through her and making her core hunger for him to be deep inside her.

His cock was throbbing. He sank down to his knees and began kissing her stomach making her shiver at the tickling sensation. His fingers brushed against the bruise he had left there the night before and kissed at it. He rubbed the silken skin on her thighs, kissing downward from her stomach to her mound, placing his hand between her legs and rubbing her through her panties, "mmmmmm," he moaned.

He grabbed the waistband of her panties and slowly started to pull them down. She stepped out of them and he lightly rubbed her engorged clit enjoying the sound of her craving and the feel of her body jerking as he rubbed the slickness between her legs. "You're so wet," he breathed out, sliding his finger to her opening and circling it, putting pressure on it but not entering. She pushed down, trying desperately to make his finger enter her, to relieve the want that was deep inside her.

"Please Daryl," she begged. She pushed down again but he denied her, still circling her hole, wet and hot and throbbing. He liked hearing her beg him, her pleading dripped with hot lust. She pushed down more. "Please baby, I need it," she husked.

The heat from his tongue made her shiver as he began to lick the length her slit, over and over, tasting her juices, feeling her sweet bud against his lips. He pressed firmly on her clit with his tongue and she began to rub herself against it, hissing at the sharp pleasure. He sucked it into his mouth, flicking it lightly and felt her hitch as she cried out quietly. Tenderly sucking on her clit his finger pushed upward and breached the edge of her opening and he felt the her hot wetness on it. She pushed down and swallowed it inside her, her walls tight against it.

"Fuck Harley," he groaned. His cock straining against his pants, begging to take his finger's place. He pulled his finger out of her and pushed it up again. She let out a satisfied sigh and began to rise and fall on it. Pushing down as he pushed up and pulling up and he pulled down. She was desperate, pushing all the way down to his hand, groaning in satisfaction then rising again, leaving a slick trail on his finger. His tongue playing against her bud, her voice becoming louder, more fevered.

He pulled his finger slowly out of her and she whined, wanting more. He gave her one last lick before slowly kissing his way back up her body, taking time to suck on her breasts before kissing her, unhurried and sensuously.

She tasted herself on his mouth and sucked the taste off his lips and tongue. As he lifted her up, she wrapped her legs around him and bent her head for another kiss. He tilted his pelvis up and brought her down on his erection, rubbing his jeans against her slick core. They both moaned into each other's mouth and he began to walk her to the bed.

He laid her down gently on her back, her legs spread wide and climbed on top of her between them and felt them wrap around him before she began grinding on him, breathing heavily. He wanted to watch her when he took her. He needed to see the person he was going to connect with.

They kissed, their hands running all over the other's body, dry humping slowly, feeling the heat of their skin against each other until he could take no more.

Daryl got up on his knees and slowly unbuckled his pants. He unzipped them and began to push them down. Harley sat up and moved to her hands and knees before him. He came free from his pants, rigid, his thick shaft lined with veins, the tip dripping with precum.

Harley licked the round swell of his head, tasting the bitterness of him, feeling him shiver, then sucked him into her mouth. She had to stretch her mouth wide to accommodate him as she swallowed him deep, his head slowly reaching the back of her throat before sliding again to her lips. She felt his fingers rake along her back then glide around to pull on her nipples.

Every time he hit the back of her throat her pussy would twitch and flex, making her moan out how good he felt in her mouth.

She gripped the base of his penis with her hand and moved it up and down in unison with her mouth. He pushed into her gently, shuddering and gritting his teeth. She took him in hand and licked him from the tip of his head to the base, brushing her tongue along his scrotum.

The sensation exploded through him. He grabbed her shoulders and slowly pulled her up. He was afraid he would lose control and climax before he got to experience her.

Daryl stood and removed his pants completely then got back between her legs. She looked up at him, a look of calm on her face. Her heart pumped rapidly in her chest. She began to stroke his graying beard on his face. "I want you Daryl." And she did, desperately, the need pulling at her.

A flutter ran up his stomach at her words. He skimmed his lips against hers and gave her a kiss, sweet and delicate before he plunged deeper into her mouth. She gripped him tightly around his neck and enjoyed the taste of his tongue and the weight of him on her.

Taking hold of his throbbing erection he rubbed his head along her wetness before placing it at her wanting opening. She bucked hungrily against it. When he pushed his head into her she melted at the sensation of being stretched open by him. He hissed deeply and moved slowly as her sex wrapped around him, gripping him tight and pulling him in.

He pushed into her and stopped when she jerked as he got deeper. "You're so fucking tight," he groaned in her ear, biting the lobe. He slowly pulled out of her to the head and pushed in again, a bit further this time. She gasped and held him tighter. He pushed in again and again until he had gotten almost all of himself deep in her warm cavern.

She locked her feet behind his back and luxuriated in the sensation of being stretched and stroked, slowly and expertly by him. Everything fell away and all that was left was her and this man who came crashing into her life, bringing forth emotions and needs that had been long dormant in her.

He pulled out and went back in even deeper and her breath hitched at the pressure of his large member in her. "Just a bit more," he whispered as he pushed in her again, kissing her on the cheek. "Just a bit more." His voice was strained as he tried to control himself.

He buried his moans in her neck and she turned her face to the side, pulling the pillow over it to muffle her cries. Every inch of his body was on fire for her. Her hot skin, her soft sounds of pleasure, the wet heat around his cock. All of it was an intoxicating explosion of sensation that shot out to every molecule of his body.

He increased his thrusting, sinking her into the mattress each time he pushed in her. Over and over the sensation of her wet, hot sex gripping him as he slid in and out sent wave after wave of ecstasy over his body. He kissed the side of her face that was pushed in her pillow and worked his way under until he felt her soft lips. She turned to him and began kissing him greedily, darting her tongue in his mouth, groaning and sighing.

He rose up on his knees, still joined to her and raised her legs until they rested on his shoulders. He started to thrust again, slowly and deeply, picking up the pace with each thrust, slapping his skin against hers. He lifted her legs off his shoulders and held them up by the ankles, getting deeper. He leaned back and watched as his cock, glistening with her juices, became visible and then disappeared again within her. He became lost in the feeling and the sight of her swallowing him up and of her breast bouncing up and down with his movement.

He watched her crying out, biting her lower lip and then taking her luscious breasts in her hands and pressing them against each other while tugging at her nipples. He was thrilled at the site of her enjoying everything he was doing to her, begging and pleading for him to not stop, calling him baby, and arching her back. He took his thumb and began to lightly brush it over her clit, making her writhe and moan and tell him it felt so good.

Daryl shut his eyes, afraid he would spill out into her before she got all that she needed from him.

He could feel her start to quiver around his swollen cock. He put her legs back on his shoulder and grabbed her ass and pulled her into him, pushing harder into her.

Her pussy began to pulse and clench, her chest heaved. She felt pressure build up in her abdomen. She sat up, resting on her elbows and started pushing hard into him. She threw her head back and let out a guttural sound that pushed him to the verge of coming. His stomach tightened and pressure began to build in his groin. He rubbed her clit vigorously to bring her over the edge.

Her jaw went slack and her eyes closed. Daryl grabbed her thighs close to his chest and slammed into her, slow and hard. She turned her head into the pillow and almost screamed.

He cried out and buried himself deep within her and held her tightly to him and let her grind against him. She grabbed his arm and squeezed it tightly as the pressure in her flowered out into a delicious orgasm, shuddering as she came on him. He held himself deep in her until she was sated and purring contentedly.

Leaning down he began kissing her everywhere he could reach. He put her legs down and started thrusting in her again, slow and gentle. A tingling that began in his scrotum radiated to the tip of his penis and he came inside her on a wave of pleasure. She watched his face contort as he swelled inside her and relax as he shot his hot seed in her. He shuddered and groaned before finally breathing again, his chest rising and falling.

He fell ontop of her, laughing, his skin glistening with sweat. "You're gonna kill me," he said, kissing her and pulling out of her slowly. He lay his head on her chest and enjoyed the feel of her stroking his back tenderly.

She gave him a squeeze then slid out the bed and put on her tank top, "I'm going to get cleaned up." She grabbed the towel and soap out the locker and wrapped the towel around her and left the room.

Daryl was still high off their love making. He tingled, still feeling her on him. Still smelling her on him.

The world had to collapse and he had to lose so much before he realised he wanted to stop hiding behind his walls and take all the joy life wanted to provide him and it began with the woman he had just made love to. And it was love. He loved her. He didn't need to wait months or years to know that to be true.

Harley came back in the room and crawled naked in the bed with him, crawled into his waiting arms. He reached behind him and turned out the light and settled into the embrace, her back against his chest, her rear end in his crotch, his face in her neck.

The universe had sent them each other and neither one would ignore it. This is where they belonged.

* * *

Daryl woke up to darkness outside. Harley slept soundly next to him on her side. Last night really happened. It hadn't been a vivid dream. He moved closer to her, feeling her naked rear end against him. He reached under the sheet and rubbed it lightly and she moaned slightly in her sleep.

His mind drifted back to her underneath him, her legs on his shoulders and his cock twitched. It sent a clear signal to him that told him it wanted to be back inside her.

Daryl scooted down a little and began to softly kiss her back. He kissed her from shoulder to shoulder and then began to trace his lips along her spine. She let out a small sigh. He willed her to wake up, to spread her legs for him again, stroke his cock with her tight, wet pussy.

Slipping a hand between her legs he began rubbing her sex with his palm, putting pressure on her clit as he rubbed. His middle finger slid inside of her, feeling her tight walls around it making him groan into her back.

He gently moved his finger in and out of her, feeling her getting wet, allowing him to get further inside her. His slick finger moved to her clit and rubbed it, slow and gentle before slipping it back inside her. Back and forth he pushed his finger in her, giving her a few strokes, then rubbed her clit a few times.

Harley let out a moan and her body began to respond by slowly gyrating against him. Daryl kept his rhythm going between her legs while moving his head to lick the back and side of her neck. She moaned again.

He moved his lips to her back once more and pushed his finger deep into her wetness and held it there, hooking his finger and massaging her g-spot. She began to whimper and push against him. Slowly at first then more vigorously. He leaned into her, nipping her shoulder. "Good morning."

She turned to face him with a smile, "good morning yourself." She stroked her hand along his rigid shaft. "A very good morning."

He continued to stroke the inside of her hot cavern and moaned into her back. "It'll be better once you turn over."

He didn't have to ask her twice. After last night Harley doubted she would ever be able to say no to him. This morning her body woke up before her. She was already pushing on him when she became conscious of the needles of pleasure running through her body. His lips on her back gave her chills while his finger inside her made her body heat up.

When she was positioned under him he leaned down and they kissed. Daryl balanced on one arm as he began to stroke his rigid cock against her slick slit, making her whimper.

He pushed slowly into her. She bit her lips at the pleasure and felt him slide along her walls until her touched her cervix. He paused and then slowly pulled out again all the way to the tip where he paused once more before starting the slow journey back into her. He kept at this pace, eliciting low moans and hisses as she was able to feel every inch of him sliding in and out of her.

Harley delighted in the pleasure. She rubbed her palms along his chest and bit her lip against the loud moans that wanted to escape her mouth.

Daryl rubbed his index finger along her lips and Harley sucking it in her mouth, flicking her toungue against it as she pushed and pulled it in and out of her mouth. He closed his eyes and groaned. He kept his slow pace up, feeling her quiver beneath him as she hissed and whimpered, letting him know this was how she liked it.

Her stomach tightened at the sensation of feeling every inch of him stroking her. Soft breathless pants started filling the air. Daryl took his middle and forefinger and began sliding them along her tongue as her mouth hung open, hissing out at how erotic it felt. He began to imagine doing the exact same thing with his cock.

"Shit baby, you're so hot," he breathed out as he pushed into her, paused and pulled out. Her pussy began to pulse. He knew she was getting ready. He was tempted to speed up his rhythm but didn't. She was enjoying this.

A soft knock came to the door but he ignored it, sliding slowing in and pulling slowly out, listening to her soft groans.

The knock came harder this time. "What," Daryl yelled out annoyed. Harley opened her eyes but he bent towards her and whispered in her ear, "I'm not stopping baby," as he kept the rhythm going. He wrapped his arms under her embracing her to him tightly.

Harley closed her eyes again as the pressure started to build and squeeze deep inside her.

"Uh Daryl," Rick called out from behind the door.

"Yeah." Slow stroke deep into her, slow stroke pulling out to the tip.

"Can I speak with you?"

She was clutching his cock now. Her muscles relaxed and then tightened again as she let out a soft cry.

 _Fuck. Off. Rick_. "Yeah, give me a minute."

He looked back down at Harley, her jaw was slack as her entire body tensed with her orgasm. He pushed deep inside her and she ground against him, lifting her upper body and biting into his shoulder. She shuddered and lay back down.

"I gotta see what he wants," he kissed her as he slowly pulled out, still hard. He put on his pants and opened the door wide enough for only his body to be seen.

Rick stepped back and looked at him with an expression of both curiosity and confusion. Abraham leaned against the wall behind Rick with a wry knowing look on his face.

"We're meeting early before breakfast. Ezekiel had a visit last night and wants to speak with us. Meet us in the main hallway in about," he eyed Daryl up and down, "twenty minutes."

"Yeah okay,"

Rick walked away trailed by Abraham who stayed long enough to say, "I'd use that time to wash up." He winked and disappeared down the hall.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** Another chapter, hope you enjoy. We're slowly working our way up to the confrontation with the Saviors. Thank you for the reviews, keep 'em coming.

* * *

Chapter 11 -

Daryl found Rick and Abraham talking in the main hall of the building. They had gone quiet and watched as he descended the stairs. He bristled. He knew he would be in for a shit storm of ridicule. He was the guy who hunted, broke bones, rode motorcycles. He wasn't the one who spent the night in a woman's bed, had a relationship, had any type of romantic inclination. He didn't want to deal with any jabs or taunting from them.

"What's this all about?" he asked as he walked up to them.

"Dwight brought some information about outposts and the main camp." Rick said, leading them down the hall. Hearing Dwight's name grated on Daryl's nerves. "We're meeting Ezekiel in the theater to see what he's got."

"This whole place is a theater," Daryl mumbled

They walked out to the back of the school, across a courtyard to a parking lot. On the other side was the theater. Rick opened the door and sitting at a desk on the stage was Ezekiel and Michonne.

Ezekiel stood up. "Oh, good. You were able to pry your compatriot from his lover's embrace."

Daryl stopped and looked at Rick, "you guys are assholes." He marched up the aisle, ignoring the laughter of Abraham and Rick and took the stage, standing next to Michonne.

She smiled up at him, "good morning." She then turned her gaze back to the map that was on the table.

"What's all this?" He studied the map that had been marked in different colors in various areas.

Ezekiel pointed to one of the markings in black. "This is one of the many outposts of our enemy." Rick and Abraham had now joined them. "These markings in red denote the Hilltop, Alexandria and the Kingdom. The green is the Sanctuary, the main camp of the Saviors."

"What are these x'ed out areas?," Daryl pointed at them, trying to get a sense of the map. "These the two places we took out?"

"Yes," Michonne answered. "So it looks like they have four outposts left and their main camp."

"Seems like they have outposts near each of our communities. We took out the one near the Hilltop. Makes me think there may be communities near these other outposts," Abraham said.

Ezekiel nodded. "Our burned spy said nothing about other communities but it would be prudent to send a few scouts to determine whether or not there are any there. We may be able to get allies or at least new trading partners."

"Sounds good," Rick said. "How do they communicate between posts?"

"Radios," Ezekiel answered. "Everything is run through the main camp. They keep anywhere from ten to twenty-five people at each outpost. Dwight has promised to sabotage the radio communications so at the time of attack they won't be able to coordinate a counter attack."

"What have we learned about homebase?" Abraham asked studying the map.

"Well," Ezekiel started, "as you know it's a fortified factory surrounded by a fence and chained roamers. The top floors are for Negan and his," Ezekiel scowled, "wives. The bottom floor is the common area and the rest is housing for the non fighters. Simple people trying to survive. Too bad they chose the wrong group for protection."

"They don't keep muscle there?" Daryl asked. That seemed unlikely.

"They do, but the majority are at the outposts, including weapons. Less than twenty fighters stay at the compound itself regularly."

"How many people in total do they have?" Rick asked.

"Over one hundred. That's only the fighters. They have about forty to fifty civilians."

"A hundred and fifty people and they don't produce shit? These people are scum. Every single one of them," Daryl spat. "Let's really count this out. They got four outposts left with twenty-five people each. That's one hundred people. Then they have another twenty at the main camp. One hundred twenty. Those are the most trouble."

"And that's a high estimate," Michonne said. "How many people do we think we can get?"

"From our side, we have maybe twelve," Rick ran his hands through his hair. "With the Hilltop, Jesus guessed fifteen and from here," he looked at Ezekiel.

"Hard to say," Ezekiel answered. "I would say, a low estimate, fifteen. Could be as high as twenty five.

Daryl ran the numbers through his head. It was a good amount but to take on over a hundred men? "So the low estimate is forty-two against one hundred and twenty."

"The good thing is they aren't all gonna be in one place. We shut down the main camp and then pick off the outposts, starting with one's nearest us." Everyone nodded at Abraham's suggestion.

"Okay," Rick said. "Let's start hammering this shit out."

* * *

Harley stood on the sports field behind the seven people who had come for archery lessons. The thick twang of the bows played out as they fired at the targets before them followed by the thunk of arrows hitting the target. The school had been equipped with long bows and arrows from the sports department. They had been practicing for a few hours. Every so often she would tap one on the elbow with an arrow to get them to hold it up or push their stomachs in, reminding them to breathe.

She held a longbow of her own and worked on pulling the string back. Her recurve bow had a pull weight of forty-five pounds, this one was marked Sixty-five pounds. She suspected it belonged to the phys-ed teacher as the other bows were fifty and fifty-five pounds. She could barely pull the string back but if she built up her muscles this would be a great weapon for her. Cola told her to keep it as a gift from the Kingdom.

She was intrigued by the Kingdom. While a good majority of the member still wore modern clothes a good amount dressed as if they had just stepped out of medieval times. Woman in their long flowing dresses with tight bodices. Men in tunics and simple breeches. There was even a man who wore a kilt, tucking it between his legs as he sat at his front door with his legs spread wide.

These were good people who lived together as a community. They ate together, hung around outside washing and gardening together, they farmed together. They had accepted, wholeheartedly, the fact that technology was dwindling and they now had to live like a people of a distant past. They enjoyed it even. It was reassuring to watch. So many people that hadn't lost their sense of community, their humanity.

Gunshots rang out in the distance. Rosita and Sasha were giving lessons at the front of the school. They had carried a large group with them through the front doors after breakfast.

Abraham and Michonne had come from the meeting with Ezekiel about an hour after breakfast and were now on the other end of the field doing their own training.

Michonne was training in swords with a few of the knights. One was showing her how to properly wield a longsword. Abraham sparred with others. Harley watched bodies fly into the air as the large red-haired man bulled into them, head down, tossing them over his shoulder.

The other members of the Kingdom watched from their trailers. enjoying the scuffling between Abraham and the men and few women he was teaching.

She clapped her hands together and called out to her group. It was time for them to stop shooting at hay filled targets and start on the dead. They gathered their equipment and moved to the front of the school.

Sasha and Rosita had their large group standing on the watch towers along the wall as well as on top of the school buses. They were shooting at the creatures they had attracted. She motioned to Rosita, calling her over.

"What's up?" Rosita asked.

"How much longer? I was thinking it'd be good for these guys to get practice. We can take out any that straggle in after the gunfire."

"About twenty more minutes. They've learned all they can and we can't waste all the bullets. You should come and get a few shots in yourself."

Harley stood at the wall with the 9mm Daryl gave her. Both Sasha and Rosita were on either side of her, giving her pointers. She felt like the bridge that stood at the center of the gap between the two women. They would reiterate what the other was saying to her but never spoke to one another.

The noise rang in her head and all she could hear was a steady tone that drowned out the sound of the dead.

All that gunfire and no one would be able to hear anything sneaking up behind them. She made a mental note to look around after each shot, to get in the habit for when she used her gun on the outside.

"It's do or die," she told her group as the shooters packed up, done for the day. They got up on the posts and fired round after round. Dropping the dead. Any that they missed she took care of. During lulls they would sprint out the gate and get their arrows and run back, waiting for more to come.

She decided that after dinner she would convert all the back quivers they had to hip quivers. It was easier to run and duck without worrying about your arrows falling out of your quiver. It was easier to hold arrows in a quiver at your side while out in the open than holding them on your back. Cola promised to get all she needed to do that and would bring it to her in the cafeteria during dinner.

A few of the gunners walked up to her with bows and arrows in hand and she started the process of teaching all over again. It felt good. These were the types of survivors she should have been with in the beginning.

She was here now though, and that's all that mattered.

* * *

Abraham and Michonne walked into the theater. "We have company," Abraham said strolling up the aisle.

"Look who showed up with the guys from the Hilltop;" Michonne was smiling, her arm around Glenn's waist. Behind them walked Jesus.

Daryl smiled when he saw his old friend and hopped down from the stage. "Knew you'd come crawling back to us," he said grabbing Glenn into a hug.

"I couldn't stay back and miss all the action," Glenn said, embracing Rick who had also stepped down to greet him.

"How's Maggie and the Drunken Dragon?"

Glenn shook his head, "why do you insist on calling my baby Drunken Dragon Daryl?"

Daryl smiled, "because Maggie's Irish and you're Korean. Makes perfect sense."

"Do you have names picked out?" Michonne asked, smiling at Rick and giving him a quick kiss.

"Herschel if its a boy and for a girl," Glenn made a sad face, "Maggie wants to name her Sophia."

They started walking up the steps to the stage.

"So you left Maggie with Gregory? How's that working out?" Rick asked.

"Maggie's tough," Jesus said as he joined them on the stage. "There are a lot of people behind her at the Hilltop who think she should lead. Also Morgan is there, he wouldn't let anyone do her harm."

Glenn shook Ezekiel's hand and looked at the two portable blackboards at the back of the stage that was covered in notes and diagrams.

"So, what do we have?" Jesus said standing at the blackboards.

Rick walked wearily up to them. They all were tired having spent the entire day going through things, arguing, throwing chalk around the theater and falling into long silences before starting the process over again.

Rick ran through the plan, taking questions and making adjustments with new suggestions. Jesus was able to bring twenty-three people in total, including him and Glenn. That upped their numbers only slightly but every little bit helped.

They ate dinner in the theater, drinking the Kingdom beer and chatting easily after so much serious talk. Laughing and joking together by candle light at the table.

"How do you think Rosita and Sasha are doing by themselves," Glenn asked. The others ooohhhhed at Abraham before breaking into laughter.

"I'm sure Daryl's lady friend is mediating between them," Abraham said as Rick snorted into his glass.

Glenn turned to Daryl, his eyes bulging out his head. "Lady friend?"

"Oh yeah," Abraham nodded slowly. "He disappeared for two nights and came back with some cute honey."

"Daryl?" Glenn asked. He pointed to Daryl. "This Daryl?"

"You can wipe that stupid look off your face," Daryl snapped at him.

"Daryl with a girl? No way." Glenn was still incredulous. "Like, _with_ a girl?"

"Why's that so shocking? I'm a man ain't I?"

"After last night you are," Rick said to gales of laughter. "We were taking bets to see who got laid first, you or Eugene."

"Are you done? Had a good laugh? You guys are assholes."

"Okay, stop," Michonne said. "Daryl is a great guy and I'm glad he finally found someone."

"Thank you Michonne." He turned to the others, "I'm a great guy."

"And besides, since she's come into his life Daryl bathes regularly, his hair is clean, his beard is trimmed."

"Et tu Brute?" He said to Michonne as she chuckled.

"So you and her are close?" Glenn looked at Daryl with a smirk.

"That's an understatement," Rick said. Daryl cut a hard glare at him.

"It's not like that. We talk. A lot. We were stuck together for two nights and a day with nothing to do but get to know each other. She knows things about me that even ya'll don't know."

"Like what?" Rick asked.

"Like what his dick feels like," Abraham choked out to more laughter.

Glenn smiled broadly and looked around the table and held his cup up. "It's good to be back guys."

"Here, here," everyone said, raising their own glasses.

"Fear not my friend," Ezekiel said to Daryl. "Love comes fast, quick and strong at times like these. I myself have found myself smitten with your Rosita."

Everyone got silent, looking from Ezekiel to Abraham, who did nothing more than light a cigar.

Daryl eyed the King of the Kingdom. He learned today that Ezekiel was a smart man who had read many books about combat and ancient wars. He knew a lot about politics and history too. Daryl could sit and listen to man talk all day. "Tell me, you always talked like this?" Ezekiel averted his eyes. "Come on man, we're about to become brothers in arms. What's the deal?"

Ezekiel cleared his throat. "No, I don't always speak that way." His voice had changed. While still deep, it had less of a royal flair, just plain ole American with a slight southern twang. "I was an amature actor in the local theater. I took on the persona and it fit. People responded to it, it gave an air of authority. This was our Kingdom, we built it up to something wonderful. A kingdom needs a king, someone to depend on, rely on, who will be strong for everyone. Some leaders take women from their people, the most food, the best of what the community has to offer. I take liberties with theatrics and as long as that's all I take, my people are fine with it."

It made sense. Hell, even the knights made a strange kind of sense. The padding protected them from bites, why not doll it up? What did it hurt? If dressing like that put them in the mind of a fighter then so be it.

They spoke late into the night. After dinner they worked on breaking themselves into what they called "take down teams". Two teams of people who would take out the outposts after they dealt with the Sanctuary. They would drop two places at once then move on to the other two.

At the end they parted ways. They were leaving in the morning. It was going to get wild in a few days and they were ready. Negan and his group were going down.

* * *

Harley had told Cola to come to her room in two hours after dinner to collect the quivers she would convert. She spent the evening stabbing her finger and cussing a blue storm as she sewed the nylon straps she had cut back to the main body.

When Cola came she began to question the young man about where he came from. He had been a student at the school, which he said was called Thomas Jefferson High. TJ for short. He had came back with his parents after things started getting worse. As he told her his tale a thought came to Harley. She asked for a notebook and a pen and Cola ran to get it for her. When he came back she told him to sit down and start over and she took notes in shorthand as his tale unfolded.

For a long time she had been pondering writing a history of the end of the world. The idea had first come to her when she would sit and talk to other survivors, listening to their stories of when they realised what was happening, how they got out, the people they lost. She had read oral histories of the Vietnam war, Great Depression and Civil Rights Movement, and would run the idea through her head as she listened. She gave up on the idea after her third group. She had no intentions of ever being around other survivors. Now, she was going to tell the tale of how it all began.

She listened to Cola tell of the first wave of people at the school, huddled inside, terrified, keeping quiet so the dead passed them by. They had lined the school buses along the front on the building and would stab the dead through the fence that surrounded the back of the school.

He was only sixteen when the dead began to rise. He had a hard time dealing with what was happening, doing what had to be done for survival. Killing roamers as he called them. Killing people. Exiling members of the group. Watching people he cared for die.

He spoke for hours, as she asked questions, getting him to clarify events. She watched him cry, get angry, and laugh so hard his entire face became beet red. She had sat next to him and held his hand and embraced him at times or simply sat quietly, patiently waiting for him to compose himself and continue on with his story.

Daryl walked slowly through the door as she and Cola spoke. They stopped and looked at him as he stood, staring at them from the doorway.

"Hey stranger," she said to him as Cola stood up, gathering the quivers and sewing supplies from the desk behind the bed.

"I'll be moving along," the young boy mumbled, darting his eyes to Daryl who stepped aside to let him out.

"Hey Cola," Harley called out before he left. She held up the notebook he had given her, "you think you can get me a few more of these?"

His young face broke out into a smile, "no problem. I think we have an old typewriter and ribbon in the secretary's office. I can get those for you if you want."

"Sure thing."

"I'll have them for you before you leave. I'm doing the wake up calls tomorrow anyway."

"Sounds good." Harley smiled at him and he smiled back, a bit too long for Daryl's liking. The young man didn't move until Daryl started closing the door on him.

"Night Cola," Daryl said as he clicked the door closed. He recognized the look on the boy's face.

He turned back to Harley who was flipping through pages of the notebook. "What's that?" he nodded to the book.

"Cola's story. I think I'm going to start talking to as many people as possible and get their stories. Let future generations know how this all began and how we survived."

Daryl sat next to her on the bed and removed his shoes. He looked at one of the pages, at the strange scribbling on it. "What kind of writing is that?"

"Shorthand." She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I don't know about you, but I'm beat."

"Yeah. " He began to tug at her shirt, pulling it over her head. "I wanna get even more tired." He kissed her chest above the sports bra she wore.

"How was your day?" She breathed out as he pulled the collar of her bra down and licked at her breasts.

"Long," he said as he sat back up removing his shirt.

"Did you figure things out?"

"Yes," he unbuttoned her pants and started yanking them down.

"Aren't you full of words," she helped him take her pants off then straddled him, standing tall on her knees.

He fingered her bra, "take this off."

She took her bra off and Daryl licked his lips. He pushed her breasts together and kissed them, flicking his tongue against her nipples. Harley shivered. She watched him as his fingers pressed into her flesh, his long pink tongue teasing her nipples erect and firm. Harley bent her head down and licked the skin of her breasts. Daryl held her breast higher and she licked her own nipple with him, their tongues touching together, both breathing heavily.

Daryl sat back and eyed her. She put her arms to her side, wondering what had just happened when he took her hands and placed them on her breasts. "Play with yourself," he said, his face cloaked with desire.

The look on his face gave her a thrill. She took one hand and placed it in her panties and started to rub her clit while pinching her nipple with the other hand. She closed her eyes and started to moan as she teased out her arousal before him.

Daryl sprang to life in his pants. He pushed his hand into the back of Harley's panties and slid a finger into her. She was wet and welcoming. He grabbed the nipple she was playing with with his lips and slowly sucked and licked it as she held her breast up for him. Moaning. He pushed another finger inside her and he felt her twitch on them as he fingered her, her hand hitting against his as she masturbated for him.

He unbuckled his pants and pushed them to his thighs then lay back on his elbows watching her. "Tell me when you're close," his gravely voice commanded. He eyed her hand in her panties and her hips which were gyrating provocatively. She started playing with her nipple again. Daryl was so turned on by her. She was unbelievably sexy to him right now as she straddled him, unabashed in what she was doing, knowing it would please him.

Harley began to feel the tension built within her. She kept her eyes closed and heard his heavy breathing, thrilled at him being turned on by watching her, sending tentacles of pleasure to her clit that she manipulated expertly.

"I'm close baby," she groaned out.

He pulled her panties to the side and slid her down onto him, moaning. Harley gasped loudly and melted, holding on to his shoulders and began to rise and fall around him. The pleasurable sensation rippled through her. He put one hand under her ass to help lift her up and squeezed her breast with his other.

He didn't know how much longer he could hold on. He could barely see through the pleasure of her riding on top of him, teasing his orgasm out. He bit the inside of his cheek, willing himself to keep going. The sounds of her groans weren't helping, they made his stomach tight and his cock inside her swell.

Harley's sex was pulsing, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pounded down on him as she began to come. "Fuck," she gasped. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

He pushed his head into her breast and held her down on him as he began to shudder, spilling into her with a growl before relaxing again.

He kissed her chest, "I can't get enough," he mumbled. He pulled her face to his and gave her a long lingering kiss.

Harley could feel his warm cum on her inner thigh. Daryl grabbed his shirt and wiped them both.

"I need to stop doing that inside you," he got up and removed his pants completely.

She pulled her panties off and tossed them aside, "yeah, but don't worry, it's been a long time since I had a period." She was glad for it too. Having to deal with that on top of everything else would have been too much.

They lay together in the dark. Her head on his chest, kissing it as he stroked her back.

"It's not long now. We've decided to hit in a day or two."

"How do you feel about that?" She looked at him in the darkness.

"Nervous. Glad it's almost gonna be over." He got quiet for a moment. "You know, I came in here last night because I didn't want to be out there, fighting Negan, and regret not doing what I wanted to do since that first night I met you."

"You wanted to strip my clothes off and make love the first night you met me?" Harley smiled at him.

"Well, maybe not the first night, but definitely in the farmhouse," he chuckled.

"Yeah, I saw you checking me out on the balcony."

Daryl groaned, "now I'm embarrassed. That didn't bother you?"

"No. I knew you wouldn't try anything. Truth be told, I kind of liked you watching. Years of being alone, there was just something about you Daryl."

"You too," he gave her a squeeze. "Life's too short, especially these days. We have enough things to fear. I'm not gonna fear what I feel for you. No matter how..."

"Strange it feels," she finished for him.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12 -

They got their wakeup call while it was still dark outside. Harley jumped up, half stumbling with sleep and pulled her clothes on before opening the door.

"I got the stuff for you," Daryl heard Cola say from behind the door. He rolled his eyes and reached behind him and turned on the light but remained where he was, the sheet covering his nakedness.

Harley walked back in the room carrying a typewriter in a case, Cola following behind her with a stack of items in his arms. The boy's smile dropped as he saw Daryl abed with his bare torso out of the sheets, sitting up looking at him.

"Morning," Cola mumbled as he followed behind Harley who placed the typewriter on the desk. She turned and took the stack from him.

"What's all this?" She asked, looking through the things.

"The ribbon is in the bag and I got a few boxes of paper. And the notebooks. I found a big box of pencils too. I put a sharpener and a few erasers in there."

"Thanks Cola, I really appreciate all this."

Daryl silently watched the exchanged. It reminded him of how he was with his uncle's first wife. She was young and pretty and liked to bring him little gifts when she'd visit. She always smelled nice and wore sun dresses that showed her delicate shape. He was only about eleven then, thirteen when she ran off. He couldn't blame her, never understood why she married his uncle in the first place.

The boy was beaming at Harley. "Oh, I almost forgot. I found some carbon paper. You can type out copies in one go."

She stood back and took a good look at the boy. "How do you know about using carbon paper to make copies? Typewriters went out of style about the same year you were born."

"I used to watch a lot of old movies. I know all about that ancient stuff."

Daryl snorted.

Harley's eyebrows shot up. "Ancient," she said, a smirk forming on her face as Cola started to back peddle.

"I didn't mean ancient, I meant old...not old but b-b-before my time."

Harley put a hand on his shoulder, "it's okay Cola. I get it."

The flustered boy smiled at her, relieved to not have to go on. "You know, if you need some help with your project, someone to type or anything, I'm sure Ezekiel could spare me. After this is all over of course."

"That would be great," Harley gave Cola her large smile and his cheeks flushed.

Daryl cleared his throat loudly. Cola darted his eyes at him then back to Harley. "Well, I better go."

"See you around. Thank you again for all this. I can't tell you how much it means to me."

The boy smiled again, looking as if he wasn't planning on going anywhere soon. Daryl started to get up from the bed, startling Cola who almost fell over trying to get out of the room.

Harley grabbed her bows and laid them on the floor by her bag.

"What's that?" Daryl pointed to her new longbow.

"Cola gave it to me as a gift," she said pulling her rucksack open.

"Wonder if he realises he's hitting on a woman old enough to be his mama," Daryl mused as he put his clothes on.

Harley began to pack the supplies Cola gave her, "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," she said as she closed her bag and slung it over her shoulder.

"Bet he put a love letter in there for you."

Harley laughed, "leave him alone. He's just a nice kid, nothing more."

"Yeah right," Daryl said, heading to the door to get his things out of his unused room. "I'm surprised he didn't show up to the door with flowers."

Harley shook her head as she watched him go. She got her bows and quiver and headed to the hallway.

* * *

Rick stood to the side of the RV speaking with Ezekiel and Jesus in whispered tones. The rest of the group packed their things into the camper as well as a few boxes of supplies Ezekiel had given them in exchange for the weapons and training.

Abraham and Sasha sat upfront, Abraham was driving. Glenn was riding back with them. Daryl had introduced him to Harley as they were packing up, the younger man smiled strangely at her as he shook her hand until Daryl pushed him into the vehicle.

The Hilltop men had come to the Kingdom on a school bus and got back on it, carrying their spears and the guns they acquired from Alexandria. The people from the Kingdom loaded into their own buses. They were taking two with them to be able to also fit the Alexandrians when they headed out to confront Negan. A few of Harley's archers were manning the wall. She spied one of the two best archers on the roof of the school as the RV pulled away from the Kingdom.

"When we get back we need to call a meeting with everyone. Let them know what's going on and get them prepared," Rick said. "We gather our weapons and rations for the road and go over our plan before we head over to the Sanctuary. After we take it down, we take down the two outposts closest to us and the Kingdom and move on to the other two."

"Who are we leaving to protect Alexandria?" Sasha asked as she watched Rick from the passenger seat.

"We have Carl, Father Gabriel and," Rick looked at Harley, who nodded her head, "Harley. They'll have to work shifts with a few others but they're going to be in charge."

Rick leaned towards Harley, "Have you ever killed anyone before?" He examined her face.

"Yes."

"With that?" He pointed at her bow.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"They were killers, takers. Like the Saviors," was all she said.

They were the men who had killed her first group in the library as she sat in the tiled ceiling, where she had taken to sleeping, and listened. Helpless and horrified. They had kicked in the front doors in the middle of the night, startling the rest of group, and announced they were there to take all their possession. In silent fear the group did as they were told, handing over bags, weapons, and anything else they could, hoping the takers wouldn't walk the aisles and find the shelves where they kept the majority of their food supplies.

When they thought they had all of the goods the takers, bikers all of them, laughed and then opened fire. Harley sat in terror long after the men had left. The silence was loud around her. She removed one of the tiles and looked down at the crumpled bodies below her, blood was everywhere. Then a few of them began to stir. Harley's heart had caught in her throat as they started feeding on the others who had been fortunate enough to be shot in the head. That's how she learned that you come back no matter how you die.

The newly dead had stayed with her in the library until morning, when, after wandering around aimlessly, they were drawn out the door by the sound of the bikes racing up the street. She jumped down from the ceiling and sealed herself in, alone with the mangled bodies of people she had sought to survive with.

For the next few weeks she would hear the sound of bikes tearing through the streets every few days, recklessly pulling the dead after them. She knew they must have been camped out nearby. She had made sure the building that housed the library was empty before barring all the doors and nailing the windows on the first floor shut.

When she tired of shooting books and posters with her bow she practiced taking down the dead from the roof of the building, retrieving her spent arrows when the streets would clear. One night the group passed by on their loud motorcycles. She was able to get two of them, adding them to the living dead as the rest took off. She watched from the rooftop as they tried to sneak up on the building next to where she was, not realising they had the wrong spot. She shot three more, then the dead came, drawn by their gunfire and loud bikes. They were overwhelmed, their screams tearing into the night, mixing with the growls of the ghouls who tore into their flesh, ripping them apart. She was then left with nothing but the dead.

"How did it make you feel?" His blue eyes were intense on her. He was testing her, trying to see what kind of fucked up she was.

"Not as satisfied as I thought it would." Harley ended the conversation by looking out the window.

Daryl watched the exchange between Rick and Harley. Rick looked like he wanted to push her some more but Harley was done talking. Rick stared intently at Harley's wrists, she hadn't bothered putting her wrist guards on today. He turned to Daryl, his eyes questioning but all Daryl did was shake his head slightly.

"When do we move?" Rosita asked.

"Day after tomorrow. We spend tonight talking to our team, tomorrow we get our supplies, finalize plans and the next morning we leave. If all goes to plan, we should be done with this by the next afternoon."

"And if it doesn't?"

"We have to dig in and fight until it's done." Rick stood up and looked at everyone. "We don't stop until the Saviors are over. We aren't playing around with these guys. This is a fucking war and we will win it."

* * *

People were packing up. They were leaving, not wanting to stay at Alexandria while they fought the Saviors. Afraid that Negan would win and come back and kill them all.

Spencer and Eugene had volunteered to stay with the families that decided to go the safe house for the duration so Harley, Carl, and Father Gabriel could stay behind and keep watch. Two men from the Hilltop and two from the Kingdom would also stay behind and help guard. Olivia also decided to stay put to help feed those who would remain.

Ezekiel had brought one of the two doctors the Kingdom had. David was a dentist before the fall and he still practiced a rudimentary dentistry but he had also moved onto medical work. He moved with his small bag into the infirmary across from the townhouses and began to prepare for any injured that may come after the battle was over.

Harley and the people on guard duty sat at Rick's kitchen table after the meeting in the church and worked out twelve hour shifts for each of them. There would be at least three people on duty at all times, sometimes as many as four. They could see Michonne getting items from the cupboards for baby Judith who would be going to the safehouse with Meredith, a young woman who watched her regularly during the day and sometimes during the night when neither Rick or Michonne could be there.

In the living room Rick sat speaking with his team, going over every detail of the plan. Daryl sat at the back of the room reading the faces of the people as they listened and studied the map. Ezekiel and Jesus sat with them. Their buses were parked behind the walls of Alexandria and their people had set up tents along the lake. Some were able to be housed in the empty, unfurnished houses and a handful stayed on the bus.

Shiva was moved into the bathroom of Rosita's house. She caused quite a stir as she was led out the bus on her leash, sniffing the air around her and casting her eyes on the stunned residents of Alexandria.

It was all moving so quickly. They had fifty-three people in all. Ten from Alexandria as Spencer would not be joining them and Tobin had left during the night to parts unknown, twenty-three from the Hilltop, and twenty from the Kingdom.

Forty-nine of them would go to the Sanctuary to confront Negan then split into two take down teams. At the outposts some people would stay around the perimeter to fight off walkers and the rest would go in to deal with the people inside and take any and all weapons and supplies they could find.

Daryl, Abraham, Sasha, Heath, Tara, Glenn and Ezekiel would head up one of the takedown teams and Rick, Michonne, Rosita, Aaron, Eric and Jesus would lead the other. They had all done this before, they knew what to do.

At the end of the meeting Rick, Jesus and Ezekiel went to the other two groups to have the same meeting.

Daryl stood on the porch of Rick's house smoking next to Michonne as he sat watching the three leaders speaking to the group from the Kingdom out by the lake. "You think we should go after Tobin?" He looked at her.

"No. Tobin left for a reason. He's a grown man. If he survives out there he'll be back and if not," a sad look came over her face.

Daryl nodded thinking back to his own disappearance and want to give up. He hoped that Tobin found something that would bring him back. Hoped he had a small reserve inside him to want to live and fight the demons that plagued him.

Glenn joined them on the porch and sat on the railing. Michonne turned to him, "Maggie okay with all this?"

"Yeah," Glenn answered looking around. "She knows it has to be done. Jesus got some flack from Gregory. Not sure what all happened but there was a lot of yelling on Gregory's part."

"What about the people?" Daryl asked. "Who do they back?"

"The majority back Jesus. They're tired of giving up all their food to Negan while they barely get enough if they don't harvest a big load. And with Maggie and Morgan stepping up, more and more are seeing Gregory for the ineffectual arrogant leader he really is."

"You think he would surrender power to Maggie? " Michonne questioned.

"No. But there are enough people there who won't give him a choice. Not sure if he'd be willing to stay with her in charge though or if he should. Maybe he could come live here?"

"Nooooo;" Michonne answered shaking her head. "He and Rick would butt heads daily. He'll remain your problem.

Glenn gave a half hearted laugh, "yeah. Wishful thinking I guess."

Walking around the wall were Carl, Harley and the men from the Kingdom and the Hilltop. Daryl watched as they stopped by the guard tower near the gate and Harley handed her bow to Carl, showing him to hold it, fixing his feet and arranging his arms. Carl said something and Harley began laughing. She clapped Carl on his shoulder before taking her bow back and then proceeded to fire three arrows quickly at a wood board on the wall in a tight circle as the boy stared at her amazed.

Daryl thought about her straddled on him pleasuring herself the night before, her beneath him moaning and writhing from his touch their first time together, the feel of her around him. He began to stiffen as he imagined what he wanted to do with her tonight.

The erection was lost when one of the Kingdom men took out a knife and threw it into the board making Harley give him an impressed look. The man pulled the blade out and handed it to her and stood behind her, showing her how to do it. Carl joined her in practicing, both of them doing poorly as their knives hit flat against the board and falling to the ground.

Daryl didn't like how close the man stood behind her or seeing his hands on her. It was time to stake his claim. He walked off Rick's porch and headed their way, hiding his face behind his hair, trying not to seem as jealous as he was feeling.

The Kingdom man remained behind her, holding her upper arm as she threw the knife and giving her a high five when it stuck into the wood. She retrieved the knife and saw Daryl when she made her way back. She handed the weapon to the Kingdom man and walked up to Daryl.

"Hey," she smiled.

"Hey," his eyes darted to the man behind her then back on her. He leaned forward and gave her a kiss on the mouth much to Carl's surprise. The boy stood with his mouth agape looking at them. A flush came to Daryl's face and he hung his head.

"Why Mr. Dixon, was that a public kiss you just gave me?" Her fingers stroked his cheek. "You're blushing."

"Stop," he said, glad to see the Kingdom man had moved away. "How much longer you gonna be here? It's getting dark, thought we could head in."

She turned to Carl who eyed them strangely, "we good for the night?"

Carl nodded slowly, "yeah. You still gonna show me the bow tomorrow?"

"Definitely." She turned to the two Kingdom men and held up her hand to them, "Jeff, Dragon. Tomorrow."

The man who had been showing her to throw a blade smiled, "can't wait," he said, shooting a look at Daryl who glared at him.

"Who's that guy?" Daryl asked her as they walked home. "The one showing you to throw?"

"Dragon."

"He likes you."

"You the jealous type?"

He stopped and looked down at her, "yes. I didn't like seeing him stand so close to you or touching you."

Harley was a bit taken aback. She looked up at him and the look of hurt on his face was easily readable. He needed her to reassure him. To let him know he had nothing to worry about. Harley hated conversations like these. She didn't know how to calm Daryl's jealousy or to quell the look of hurt in his eyes. She was no good with things like that. "I'm with you. Only with you."

He hated feeling this way, vulnerable, insecure about her, jealous watching her with Dragon. Dragon was tall, broad shouldered, muscular, young, and handsome.

"If you didn't know me, would you like that guy?"

Harley snorted. "No. He calls himself Dragon for fucks sake. He doesn't respect women. He started showing me the knife thing because it rubbed him the wrong way I could shoot like I did. I put up with it because throwing knives is a good skill."

"So he's a dick."

She laughed and shook her head. "I'm with you Daryl, don't ever doubt that. I know you've never put yourself out like this before, being in a relationship, I'm not going to screw around and fuck you over. You can't get rid of me so easy."

"Am I that easy to read?"

"Am I that hard?"

* * *

Sweat ran down Harley's back. She gripped the rise of the step before her as she leaned over Daryl, moving up and down with the aid of his hands under her ass. She gasped loudly with each thrust of his hard cock deep inside her, piercing every nerve with delicious pleasure. Everytime she came down on him he thrust up with a grunt, digging his fingers into the flesh of her backside with exquisite pain.

She grasped the back of his neck and pulled his face towards her and kissed him hard, licking his tongue and biting his bottom lip causing him to groan and slam harder into her.

After dinner they were suppose to go upstairs, take a shower together, fall into bed but as he stood waiting for her by the staircase he had given her his penetrating stare and something gave inside her. Her pussy tightened as she got closer to him. She had planned on giving him a soft kiss but it turned greedy, forceful, full of want and he responded in kind. His shirt was balled in her fists as she pulled at it, almost tearing it from him as he pressed her against the rail, pulling her pants open and shoving them down.

They had been frenzied, their lips exploring each other's bodies as they gasped and moaned. It had slowed when Daryl dropped to his knees and pushed his tongue into her opening while pulling one of her legs over his shoulder. The erotic sensation sizzled through her as she grabbed his hair and nudged downward to get more of his tongue in her. He licked her slit to her bud then back again, sliding his tongue inside her and thrusting it up and down before another long lick.

"Ohhhh Daryl," Harley had moaned, lost in the pleasure as he started flicking her clit between softly sucking it making her legs shake and him groan into her mound. His hands had wrapped around her upper thighs, pushing his face deeper into her and she began to slowly circle her hips on his face feeling the tightness in her build up as he licked and sucked her.

She had felt herself stretching as he pushed two fingers inside her making her cry out. "I'm gonna come baby," she moaned out. He knew exactly how to touch her, how to make her go weak, to make her hungry for him. His fingers slipping in and out of her combined with his tongue on her clit had driven her wild. As he hooked his fingers and rubbed her g-spot she spasmed, throwing her head back and cried out to god, the tightness deep inside bursting into a orgasm.

Daryl's fingers slowed inside her and his licking became gentle as she shuddered and gasped. He kissed her thighs and rubbed her juices off his beard before standing and grabbing her into a deep kiss. "Let me inside you," he husked into her ears.

He had pushed her down gently on the step, hooking one leg over his shoulder and the other around his waist as he slowly pushed into her.

"Ooohhhhhh," she breathed out, grabbing his neck and bringing her mouth up to his. Her eyes closed and she could hear his sounds of pleasure in her ears and feel the ecstasy he created with each stroke through her body.

She opened her eyes to see him looking down at her, his face strained with pleasure and lust. He bit the calf of her leg on his shoulder and let out a long moan. She pushed his hair back from his face and smiled gently at him.

"You're so beautiful," he groaned out as he began kissing her.

She had almost told him she loved him but bit her lip instead and pushed forward and made him get beneath her. God he felt so good sliding back inside her and gripping her ass, spreading her cheeks apart as he drew her down on him. She held on to his muscular arms, feeling them flex under her fingertips, revelling in his strength. She rubbed them, every bump and curve of his muscle turning her on so much so she had to lean down and kiss them. The smell of him, manly and musky made her quiver. She breathed him deep, loving everything about him. His strong grip on her, his deep moans that made her tingle, his hard thrusts that made her cry out, knowing he was hers was the best sensation of all. This forceful man was hers.

She leaned forward and gripped the rise of the stairs and began to match his movements, knowing that she would send him over the edge. She wanted to. Listening to him get pleasure from her turned her on more than anything.

As they kissed Daryl's grabbed her tight and stopped her movement and started thrusting slowly as he stroked her breast. "Can I come?" he whispered out breathless. Harley nodded her head and he hugged her to him as he gave a few more strokes before grunting out and shuddering under her.

Harley remained in his arms, feeling his heartbeat, feeling the rise and fall of his breath, basking in the comfort she felt with him.

"I don't want to move," he mumbled, holding her tighter.

"Me either." She sucked his earlobe and slowly kissed her way down to his neck making him moan. She rested a hand over his heart, "it's beating so fast."

"You do that."

She smiled.

"I told you, you're gonna kill me," he chuckled. He turned her face to him and stroked her cheek. The look on his face gentle and serene, content and loving. "Come here," he pulled her face towards his, giving her a lingering kiss on the lips.

An electric jolt ran up her and she took his hand and held it over her heart, so he could feel her heart thudding in her chest, "you do this to me."

* * *

A slight breeze blew through the open windows of the room. Harley lay naked on her stomach still damp from the shower she had just taken, Daryl beside her on his side, stroking her soft flesh with the tips of his fingers.

"Mmmmmm, that feels nice," her voice low in the darkness.

"You feel nice." His hand cupped the underside of her bottom, tempted to slide his fingers between her legs. He moved closer to her, feeling the heat of her damp skin. "You know, this is our last night together." _I might die_.

"No it's not," her voice was firm. He wasn't going to argue with her, let her know his fears. He told himself he might let her know if he came back. These were back of the head thoughts that didn't need to be voiced. Not now anyway.

"It's our last night before we go," he corrected himself.

"So we should make the most of it." She lifted her ass slightly in the air and moved it so his finger rested on the precipice of her sex.

He gloated silently. "You like it? With me?"

"Meh, it's all right," she turned her head back to smile at him.

He lightly touched her center, feeling her moisture, "seem like it's more than all right." He was beginning to think she liked it more than him. She was always ready, wet and undulating at the merest hint he wanted sex. And he wanted it every time he was alone with her.

His hand slid from between her legs and back up her to her shoulders. She was secretly disappointed but still loved the feel of him touching her. This was a different kind of intimacy and she loved it almost as much as sex with him.

"You have an early watch tomorrow?" he asked, leaning down to kiss her along her back.

"No. I need to be up to show Carl the bow then I'm gonna take a nap around three. My shift starts from nine."

"Who's on shift with you?" His lips moved slowly down her spine, kissing and sucking and licking her.

"Um, from the Hilltop, Max is on until three or four in the morning. Dominic is on until midnight. Carl starts at 11 p.m., Jeff at 6 a.m. and Dragon at 1 a.m. We want to make sure a lot of people are on while it's dark. We're assuming if the Saviors attack it will in the dark."

Daryl stiffened at the mention of Dragon. Harley turned her head back to look at him. "Hey, what did I tell you earlier?"

"You're with me." He kissed her lower back.

"Yes," she sighed.

"You're my woman," he took a mouthful of her ass cheek and bit it lightly.

Harley bit back a moan. "I never said that."

He bit her again, making her moan escape this time. He loved hearing her moans. He loved her ass. "I said it. You're my woman." Another bite. Another moan. "And I'm your man:"

"Is that so," she felt herself gyrating as his mouth moved back up her back, sucking, kissing, licking. She hated herself for liking him calling her his woman, it seemed so cavemannish. "Is that your way of calling me your girlfriend?"

He turned her on her side and lifted her leg over his hip, pressing against her. "I'm too old to have a girlfriend. You're my woman."

"So this is official then? You and me?" Her arms laced around his neck.

"You and me," he kissed her. "Exclusively." He gave her a meaningful look. He was feeling possessive of her. The idea of someone else being able to touch her like he did made him angry. Knowing she'd spend long nights with Dragon until he got back was driving him crazy. "Unless..."

"There is no unless," she cut him off.

"Maybe you want to explore your options."

"No. Even when there were more options I didn't want to explore them. I want what I want and I want you."

"I just didn't want to assume."

She could feel his intense stare on her in the darkness. His thumb brushed against her lips and she pulled it into her mouth and flicked her tongue along it as she sucked. He kept her in a constant state of arousal. Everything about him was sexy. The looks he gave, the sound of his voice, his arms, his shy sweetness, his legs, and his cock.

"Do you like it with me?" His voice made her quiver.

"Do I like what with you?"

"Sex. Do I make you feel good?" His hand traveled to her breast, holding it while pinching the nipple between his index and middle finger. "Do I touch you the way you like?"

The aching began. "Yes," she breathed out.

His kiss was hot, sensual. Her hand slid between his legs and held his rigid erection. She stroked him, rubbing her thumb along the head, feeling his hot precum on it. He hissed in her mouth, kneading her breast.

She pulled away from him and he shivered as her lips touched his chest. She licked at the curve of his pecks, loving the strength in them.

He grabbed her hair as she went lower, kissing his stomach, feeling it jump under her lips. He groaned as as she dragged her tongue down his lower abdomen, along the trail of hair that led to his cock wrapped in her hand. She licked him from the shaft to his head and back again. Raising his member she licked underneath, from the shaft to the head, scooping his precum into her mouth and moaning as she placed his head inside and slowly pushing him to the back of her throat.

Her tongue flicked out her mouth as he was deep inside her and licked at his balls. He held fast to her head and groaned as she pulled her hot wet mouth back up to the tip of his cock filling the air with soft smacking noises before she swallowed him again.

He never thought he could love sex so much. Before it was banal, filled with obligation to prove something to his brother and a bit of shame at using those women. With her he felt connected, sure, satisfied. She made him feel primal, like a man. Most important, sex with her made him feel desired.

She quickened her movement making him clutch the bed as he tried not to thrust into her mouth even though that was exactly what he wanted to do. Her mouth was so wet around him, he could feel her saliva dripping down his shaft and pooling around his base. He grabbed himself and began stroking himself in concord with her mouth, feeling pleasure running all through him as his fingers touched her soft lips wrapped around him. If she kept this up he would come inside her mouth. The thought gave him a rush and he groaned loudly thinking about spilling his seed in her mouth, down her throat.

He grabbed her head and held her still as he slowly and regretfully pulled out of her. "I need to be inside you," he pulled her up to his mouth. He lifted her leg around his waist and pushed it high on him and slowly pushed into her, taking his time.

"Say my name Harley." His voice was tight.

Harley shuddered and put her mouth next to his, "Daryl," she moaned out. They held each other tightly as he stroked slowly. Her emotions began to engulf her, she felt so incredibly close to him. She pulled back a little and looked at his face in the dark.

"Do you like that Harley?"

He skin pricked at his saying her name. "Yes."

"Ohhhh, say my name," he moaned out. He needed her to say his name. To know she was there with him, not just any man, but him.

"Yes Daryl," she kissed him.

He couldn't take his eyes off her, watching every small expression she made, feeling her breasts bounce against his chest. He wasn't going to come in this position but he didn't care. If he could he would fall inside her body just to stay close to her. "I love...," he began before catching himself, "...being with you." He hugged her tightly.

Tears sprang suddenly to Harley's eyes. She knew what he was going to say and it overwhelmed her. "I love being with you too Daryl," she whispered in his ear, trying to control her sobbing, hoping he wouldn't notice. "I want to stay like this all night," she murmured. "Don't leave me Daryl."

He clasped her tighter, "I won't Harley. Not tonight."

* * *

 **A/N:** Next up, the Sanctuary. Thank you all for reading. I hope you are enjoying it. Thanks for the reviews, the faves and the follows.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** I tried to make this chapter exciting and I hope I succeeded. Let me know what you think. Enjoy.

* * *

Chapter 13 -

Everyone was eerily silent as the school bus coasted down the road on the way to the Sanctuary. Daryl sat alone in the bench chair, his legs stretched out on the seat, staring at the ground. He tried to steady his thoughts. The first time they went on the offensive with the Saviors they had been calm, cocky, sure they were going to win. They had to, they were winners. They had worked out the plan in less than a day and went in with the confidence of super heros.

Now, as he looked around, they were all worried. They had worked hard, plotted and planned and yet they were unsure. More organized and more afraid. They met separately with their takedown teams and explained in plain language that when they entered to outposts of the Saviors they were there to kill. They weren't taking any prisoners, they weren't leaving any wounded behind. They would go room to room and exterminate each and everyone behind the doors, asleep or awake.

As they went over the plans of how to get in and out Abraham watched them and decided who would go in and who would wait outside to deal with walkers they may attract and any Saviors who may slip outside trying to escape. He told Daryl he made his decision based on their reactions to what they were about to do. The ones who balked automatically were placed outside. Not everyone was built for killing.

Daryl had requested that his team deal with the outpost closest to Alexandria. He figured that was where the man who had touched Harley would be. He wanted to be the one to find him, to push a blade through his skull, but only after he beat the shit out of him, made him suffer a bit. He didn't tell Rick all of that but Rick conceded, possibly seeing the glint of fire in Daryl's eyes.

Daryl absentmindedly fingered the bandana around his arm. Harley had tied it to him this morning when he told her goodbye as she stood on the watch tower by the gate. She slipped two small liquor bottles in his pockets and handed him her machete. "Just in case," she had said.

He had grabbed her tight and kissed her deeply. Remembering the closeness he felt to her as they lay entwined the night before. Declaring publicly for all to see that they were together. Hoping she could feel all the things he felt for her in that one kiss.

As he descended the ladder to the ground he paused and told her that he loved her and that she didn't have to say it back. At that moment he didn't care if she loved him, as long as she knew how he felt, would never have to wonder if he didn't return, and hopefully respect the love he had for her. But she did. She said it and it made him wonder if it was her love for him that made her cry silently into his neck as they made love. She had told him that she didn't know why she was crying but that she wasn't sad. He was unable to wipe the smile off his face as he had run to the bus.

Now he sat silent, full of worry on his way to try to free his group of the burden of the people who terrorized so many.

The bus began to slow, out the front window Daryl spied the top of a factory building in the distance with smoke pipes rising in the sky.

"We're almost there," Rick bellowed out. "Remember, stick to the plan, use the busses for cover from gunfire and keep an eye out for walkers."

As they slowly drove up to the Sanctuary Daryl could see the factory looked to have nine levels, the last three levels separated into a tall narrow tower. This is where Dwight said Negan lived with his harem. Large concrete blocks were placed haphazardly on the road before the building and behind the blocks was a fence. On the fence were walkers, chained and hanging from the links. Some of them mere torsos. On a few tall poles there were only heads. They all came to life with the approaching vehicles, reaching out with rotted arms and snarling. There were a few cars parked before the fence and walkers were also chained to those, sometimes three or four deep, creating a wall of hissing, dead booby traps for anyone who dared to come upon them.

There was no one standing guard, no one milling about outside. The ground around the factory was made of concrete and nothing but weeds grew between the cracks.

The people on the bus stood up and began to grab their gear. Daryl shoved Harley's machete in his belt, stuffed his .45 in the small of his back and slung his crossbow over his shoulder. Last he picked up his rifle.

The busses lined up one behind the other parallel to the fence and everyone walked out except for Sasha who placed the point of her rifle out the window and put her eye to the scope, ready to take out anyone who came into her line of sight.

The group stood in a ragtag line in front of the busses, keeping a close eye on the walkers who stretched at their chains in an attempt to get at them. Michonne had pushed her katana through the heads of a few and some of the other people began to put down the walkers closest to them.

Rick, Jesus, and Ezekiel stood in front of the group, Rick looking around at them, making sure everyone was in place. Daryl raised his rifle to his shoulders and scanned the windows ready to fire at the first person he saw appear in one of the panes.

BOOM!

Rick's shotgun fired into the air, echoing over the distance. He pulled the trigger again then tilted his head back, "NEGAN!" he bellowed out, his voice deep, loud, commanding and full of force.

There was only silence and the growl of the walkers as they waited. A nervous energy spread along the group like an electric current. A slow minute dragged by before they heard a sound coming from the Sanctuary.

A door opened on the roof of the factory next to the tower and Negan stepped out, alone, his bat is his arm, an amused look on his face.

"What the fuck is this Rick," Negan called down to them. "You trying to see if your dick is bigger than mine. It isn't."

"Look around Negan," Rick yelled out. "Before you stands three communities united. United and ready to fight and saying to you no more."

There was a murmur through the crowd as they agreed.

"This doesn't have to end in violence," Rick continued. "In fact we'd prefer if it didn't. We are giving you a chance, right here, right now, to surrender. We know there are civilians inside. Men, women and children who are not a part of this. We can spare their lives, give them an opportunity to carry on as a part of larger community who work with each other. Not who live off the pillaging of other's hard work."

Negan said nothing for a while, simply glaring down at them. "What of the others? The ones who are a part of this? Me?"

 _We kill you all_ , Daryl thought.

"You kill," Rick began, "you die."

Negan laughed. "You really expect me and my men to surrender so you can execute us? Un-fucking-believable. Should we walk out with our pants down, bent over and our cheeks spread? Should I bring some lubricant or you plan on fucking us dry?"

"We can just come in there and kill you all," Rick answered as the sounds of rifles being raised and guns being cocked rang out behind him.

Negan rubbed his chin as though he were considering their terms. "I have another solution." He turned towards to the door he had come from and snapped his fingers. Two men dragged a third between them and pushed him forward to the crowd. Gregory stood, eyes wide with terror, looking down at them.

"Fuck," Jesus said. "How did they get him?"

"The Hilltop stands with Negan and the Saviors," Gregory stuttered out. "If you continue with this foolish plan your families will be thrown out and you will have to fend for yourselves."

"Coward," someone called out behind Daryl. More voices raised yelling out "coward" and "traitor".

"Go home now, or you'll have no home to go to," Gregory finished. At least he had the decency to look ashamed Daryl thought. He glared up at the weak man as he stood gripped by two soldiers, sweat wetting his face, when suddenly a long wooden handle of a spear grew out of Gregory's chest. A red stain spread across Gregory's shirt and he gaped down, his face paling and blood spilling from his mouth.

"I guess you have your answer," Rick called out as Negan and his men scurried inside leaving Gregory's body to crumple on the ground where he once stood.

A gunshot rang out and someone yelled. Daryl looked over in time to see someone from the Kingdom fall, blood splattering the stunned people who stood around him.

"Get cover and open fire," Jesus yelled. Daryl scrambled behind one of the concrete blocks and began to fire towards the windows, blowing glass everywhere. Others behind him were also shooting. The asphalt behind him began to tear and fly apart from the bullets hitting it behind him. A few windows of the bus exploded and he felt glass raining down on him as he ducked and covered his head with his hands.

In the short lull that followed he ran behind the busses with the others. They fired from around the busses, a few were boosted by others above the roof of the busses and were firing over them. Dead bodies hung out the windows of the factory, some fell from the roof where Negan had addressed them.

Daryl looked behind him, getting closer was a herd of walkers drawn by the gunfire. He crept over to Rick and tapped the man, pointing behind him. Rick nodded.

"We have company," Rick called out. "Back on the busses, we're getting out of here."

Others started shouting out to get back on the busses. The engines started and people scrambled into the three vehicles. As the door to their bus closed Rick ran up the driver and said something to him. The driver nodded. He was a member of the Kingdom whose name Daryl didn't know.

Their bus began to move quickly backwards. They hit the fence, sending it down, leaving a gap before stopping and slowly moving forward until it was free of the links and began driving behind the other busses.

Daryl moved to the back of the bus and looked out the back window. Walkers were spilling into the hole left by the damaged fence and more were coming. The Saviors would be trapped inside by the large throng of hungry walkers, not to mention the ones that would now be inside from the few they took out at the windows.

He watched the wave of walkers at the Sanctuary doors. A few of the fallen people who were in their group began to stand and join the throng of walkers surrounding the building. He looked up to where Negan had stood and saw Gregory, dead and lumbering as he banged on the door trying to gain entry.

* * *

Harley could still see Daryl's face as he stood on the ladder of the lookout. She was thinking about it all these hours later as she once again stood at her post, Carl standing below her peeking out at the darkness beyond the slightly opened inner gate.

"I love you Harley Bessie Glinton," he had said, keeping his intense eyes steady on her as a ripple of emotion spread over her body. "I wanted to tell you last night but you might of thought it was the sex talking." Daryl smiled slightly before his face got serious again. "You don't have to say it back, or feel it for me. Just know I do. And I'm gonna tell you again when I get back."

She had gone to her knees to be closer to him and stroked the hair on his face. "I love you too." He had kissed the palm of her hand before jumping to the ground and running to the bus waiting for him.

She had worn a dreamy smile on her face ever since. It was there now as she thought about him, her stomach tumbling every time she remembered the look on his face.

She was on her knees on the platform, her chest level with the top of the wall, unable to see much further than a few feet ahead of her in the darkness. The moonlight glimmered off the metal of the cars around the compound. She could see the outline of the spikes that circled around the two cars blocking the road. In the distance she heard the scowling growls of the dead and the drag of their feet as they passed the row of cars surrounding the walls. But under that she heard something else. It was the soft crunch of grass and the light thunk as something hit against the cars, slowly walking towards them.

She got down low and waved her arms frantically at Carl who moved closer when he spied her. She cupped her ear at him then pointed to the wall, letting him know she heard something. He quietly climbed the ladder to her and she got on her stomach and whispered in his ear, "something approaching. Alive."

He stopped and listened. He heard it to, nodding his head in affirmation as something dragged along one of the cars and the footsteps got louder. He held up his gun but she shook her head. "Get back to the gate and keep an eye out. If it goes south, shoot. Don't do anything until then."

Carl nodded and went back to his spot. Harley peaked over the wall and could now see two shadows moving through the cars. She nocked her bow and swung it over the wall and fired. The arrowhead tinged off the metal of one of the cars. "Stop right there," she bellowed. "Put your hands up and move slowly forward."

She watched, the figures stopped moving but no hands went up. She fired again, aiming close to one of the heads, making sure they would feel the arrow whizzing by. "Not going to ask again. Next one hits its target."

Two sets of hands shot up in the air. "We're not a threat," a man's voice called out.

Harley stood, an arrow nocked. "Keep those hands up and move slow."

"Please," another man's voice, "we need sanctuary. A place to stay. We aren't a threat."

"I am," Harley growled. "Just do as I say and you live to see another sunrise." Her voice was steady, menacing.

The two men moved slowly between the cars, their arms rigid above their heads, as they got closer she could see they carried large backpacks. One was tall, the other a few inches shorter. Both lean. Almost too lean, like their meals were few and far between.

They stood in front of her, they looked to be in their thirties. Hard thirties. The light of the moon falling into the deep crevices of their faces forming dark shadows.

"Please," the tall man said. "Sanctuary."

"Drop your packs slowly." They made no attempt to move. "Now," Harley barked. The tall man slowly slid his pack off his shoulders and let it fall to the ground and put his hands back in the air. His companion stood watching him but still kept his goods. "You too," Harley said, drawing her bow back.

"And if I don't?"

"Then my companion behind the gate shoots you through your head."

The pack fell with a thud. Behind them the sound of growls began signaling they had drawn something along with them in the darkness.

"Now, take your clothes off." She kept an eye on the long blade poking through the belt of the tall man. She saw no sign of guns but they could be stuffed in the small of their backs. The men stared at Harley surprised. "Take them off and no sudden moves. Would hate to have to kill one of you."

"What is this, some strange sex compound?" the shorter man asked with a nervous chuckle. "We gonna get laid in there?"

Harley glared. "Oh, you wanna get fucked?" She drew her arrow back and aimed it at him, "I'll fuck you."

"Shut up and do as she says," the taller man hissed.

"I'd listen to him sweetheart," Harley's voice was condescending. "The dead are getting closer."

They both began to remove their shirts. Kicking off their shoes they unbuckled their pants. Harley heard their blades drop on the ground. Slowly they shoved their pants down, pulling their legs free and kicking the pants away from them. When they slowly tugged on their underwear Harley stopped them. "Enough."

She looked down at Carl, "you have the keys to the cell?" He nodded. "Get Father Gabriel."

Carl took off running for the church where Father Gabriel had a room in back.

"What are you doing out here?" She asked the men as they stood in the darkness in front of the gates in their underwear, looking nervous as the growls got louder. One of the dead had managed to make its way through part of the maze of cars. Harley could see it's shadow behind a car a few feet behind the men.

"We're cartographers," the tall man began.

"That a..." the shorter man started.

"I know what that is," Harley snapped. "Why don't you shut up and let the man finish?"

The tall man took a deep breath. "We travel around, making new maps of the land. There are a few of us. We got the southern parts and we're working our way up the east coast."

The creature continued to slide along the cars and work its way around closer, moving on some strange instinct, somehow understanding how the maze worked.

"Where are you from?"

"California," the man answered.

Harley pulled her bow back and fired at the creature, dropping it in the darkness. The men looked behind them then back at her.

"And you two made it all this way, alone, from California?"

"Is that so surprising?" the shorter, annoying one asked her. He had a lot of attitude for someone who had an arrow aimed at his head.

"Yes," Harley answered as the rapid footsteps of Carl and Father Gabriel came up to the gate. "These men are gonna take you to a holding cell. Cooperate and no one gets hurt."

"You're locking us up?'" The annoying guy once more. Harley did not like this man. She called him Dick in her mind.

"Have no choice. You'll be safe, you'll have a bed, food, water, a bucket to shit in. Count yourselves lucky."

"What about our stuff?" the tall one asked.

"I'll get it."

Carl and Father Gabriel walked out the gate, weapons drawn and stepped behind the two men. When the two men were in front of the guns Harley came down from her tower and walked past the gate to collected their items and went back inside. She began to dig through their bags, seeing what they had on them. Besides knives, a water filter and bottles, they also had raincoats packed into plastic bags. When she had opened the bag the stench of the dead exploded up at her, making her retch. They also had spiral bound road maps, books of tracing paper, writing utensils, rulers and notebooks.

She lit the lantern that sat in the corner by the gate and opened the books and her breath caught. She sat down and began to examine them, tears coming to her as she was unable to process the emotions she felt looking at the information contained inside.

Carl came behind her as she flipped through the pages. "You think this is a good idea?" he asked her as he sat next to her.

"Yeah. We'll keep them locked up until your dad gets back and he can make the final decision on what to do with them. For now they're of no danger being locked up."

The boy nodded. "Father Gabe is getting some food for them, and hot water and soap. I forgot how much you stink being out there."

Harley smiled at the boy. "Yeah, I caught a whiff of their clothes. Gag inducing."

She motioned for him to come closer. "Take a look at this." She flipped open one of the spiral bound road maps for the state of New Mexico. On each page was a corresponding piece of tracing paper. She put the tracing paper down over the printed map and held the lamp so Carl could get a better look. The tracing paper showed new boundaries and names of settlements that sat along the old routes from before.

"There are other people left and they're doing what you are doing here. They're making a new world." She handed the book to him and he paged through. A lot of the new maps showed nothing existed anymore, but few and far between were compound names and lines drawn that marked out their territories. "I think they're legit."

"Wow," Carl said as Harley grabbed the book for Georgia.

"Do you remember where your prison was?" Carl shook his head. "Look here," she pointed to a page. "This is a prison compound. Maybe some people came and took it over?"

Carl nodded as they continued to look through the books. In the notebooks were write ups on the communities they visited. A brief history and how safe they were. A lot of the notes were in some sort of code, a personal shorthand Harley couldn't figure out. Some of the maps had large areas where the word 'infested' was written. Most of the infested areas were major cities. The settlements seemed to have grown around those. A few lay further out, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Every so often there would be a settlement with a skull and crossbones marked next to it. Did that mean they were gone now? Overrun?

Harley heard footsteps and looked up to see one of the Hilltop guards approaching. She began to pack up the books. "This stays with Alexandria only. Until your dad decides." Carl nodded and stood up.

Dominic came up to them, his spear resting on his shoulder. "Everything okay here?"

"Yeah. Two guys looking for refuge. They're under lock and key until we can figure out what to do with them," Harley answered.

"Find anything good in their packs?"

Harley shook her head. "Just basic supplies. They had some knives in their pants but nothing special." She pointed to the plastic bags stuffed with soiled raincoats. "I guess they camouflaged themselves with guts over those raincoats. Those need to be soaked in boiling water and alcohol. They're disgusting."

Dominic eyed her then shrugged and nodded. "Dragon's coming on soon. Gonna do one more walk around then I'm heading in."

"No problem. See you tomorrow. Sleep well."

Harley grabbed the bags and went back up to her lookout with them. The world was still going. It was smaller, but people were out there. Building, forming new societies, learning to live again in this fallen world.

* * *

Daryl sat on the roof of a bus with Rick. They were parked in a clearing with the busses forming a triangular barrier from the outside. In the center a fire burned and people sat around it eating and talking. On the other busses a few people stood guard, taking care of any dead that wandered towards them.

Daryl watched Shiva, who was off to the side eating a walker with wild abandon next to Ezekiel and Rosita. He grimaced, wondering how Ezekiel could stand to be so close to the old carcass being ripped open by his pet.

The bus rocked as Michonne climbed up and sat next to Rick. "What happens now?" she asked him, stroking his thigh.

"We take out the outposts, regroup at Alexandria and go back and finish off the Saviors."

"You willing to kill everyone? Even the innocent?" Michonne asked, staring intently at Rick.

"I don't know. What choice do we have?"

Michonne sighed. "Chances are that Negan will kill them before we have a chance."

"Or they could surrender. Refuse to fight us. I'm sure they heard what I said out there."

Daryl felt wrong sitting in on their conversation but he watched them nonetheless.

"I hope so," Michonne said.

"I'm worried Michonne. I don't feel good about that part of the plan."

Rick leaned his head on Michonne's shoulder and she kissed him on the top it. That was Daryl's cue to leave. This was definitely a private moment between lovers. Michonne would comfort Rick, the way strong women do for their men and then they would have an intimate moment together, speaking of feelings or holding each other.

"I'm gonna get with my team," he mumbled as he began to climb down. He scanned the area for Abraham and found him sitting by the fire with Sasha, finished with his food and drinking deeply from a bottle of water. Daryl sat down next to them. "How much longer?"

"About twenty minutes before we leave. We should start gathering people and going over the plan once more." Abraham stood up and shouted, "my team, over here."

People started walking over. They were short three people from their team. They were part of the fallen at the Sanctuary.

Abraham moved over away from the flames and shone his flashlight on the ground and drew out a map of their first outpost and began reminding the different teams of three which rooms they were assigned to. He regrouped a few to make up for the dead. This outpost was small, only having six different private rooms, a main area and a weapons hold. This was all according to the layout Dwight gave them. Three teams would go in and hit two rooms. Another team of three would get the other rooms and take care of any people out in the hallway.

It would be the same drill at the other outpost. That one was larger with nine private rooms, two main areas, weapons hold and a chamber where they kept people they took. Dwight also warned against walkers chained in the halls to prevent entry and escape. Everyone listened intently as Abraham went through the plan. Daryl could see the large man enjoyed this. This was what he was good at. He was a military man at heart.

"If anyone comes across a man with a knife tattoo, leave him and come get me," Daryl said to his team. "I mean that. He's mine." They stared at him but said nothing, only nodding their understanding.

They drove towards the first outpost in silence. The bus parked along the side of the road a good distance from the building and they walked mutely through the woods towards it. Behind the trees they watched. Three men with guns stood outside pacing back and forth. Daryl and two Hilltop men crept forward on Abraham's non vocal command. Daryl held his crossbow ready as they went along, silent, on the grass. The other two men held their spears ready. They paused, each taking aim at his target. "On three," Daryl whispered. "One, two, three." Two spears and an arrow shot through the dark. The three men stood for a second, their heads pierced, before they dropped. Daryl and the men ran forward. He could hear the other groups behind him moving swiftly. A Kingdom man came towards the door and bent down to pick the lock. The handle turned and the door creaked a bit as it opened.

The groups scattered once inside. The dim lights on the ceiling illuminated the halls as they crept along them. The layout so far was just as Dwight has said. Daryl's team entered the first room. He and another man crept up to the two men asleep on their beds. The third man kept watch at the door. Silently pulling his knife, his heart thundering in his chest, his breath ragged, Daryl aimed the point above one of the sleeping men's eye and swiftly plunged it in. The body jerked and rattled slightly before settling in death.

The second Savior in the room sat up and opened his mouth as if to scream, the Hilltop man ran his spear through the Savior's throat, removed it, then sent it into the man's brain.

One room down, one more to go.

Daryl and the other man again crept into a room. Two men slept on steel beds lined on opposite walls. Laying on one was the man who touched Harley. Daryl signaled to his partner that he was going for him. The Hilltop man crept to his target and slowly and quietly pushed his spear through the man's eye. Daryl stood and stared at the man with the knife tattoo on his neck. He motioned to the other man to leave the room and the man did, giving Daryl a worried look. Daryl kicked the door to the room closed and the man woke up startled.

"Remember me?" Daryl asked, picking up a chair from the corner and slamming it against the man's head. Blood spilled from a gash in the man's head, he slumped dazed on the floor looking up at Daryl.

"That woman you touched at Alexandria. That was my woman," Daryl walked to the man, Harley's machete in his hand. "That the hand you touched her with?" He held up the man's left hand and laid it on the ground stepping on it. He swung the machete swift and hard, taking the man's hand clean off. The man began to scream but Daryl slammed his fist into the man's face, repeatedly, stunning him.

"I promised myself I would kill you, but it won't be easy." Daryl took the machete and sliced the man deep along his stomach and smelled blood and shit in the air. The man's stomach spilled on the floor in a red clot, the man's eyes widened then lost their light as he slumped down, dead. Taking his blade out of it's sheath hooked to his belt, he raised the man's head up and pushed the blade through his eye.

In the hallway the other teams were moving through the hall. Daryl spotted Ezekiel running with Shiva. The cat had fresh blood on her muzzle. The outpost seemed quieter than when they entered.

They headed towards to the weapons hold. Abraham and his team was already there, stuffing guns in their hands. A few of the men who were watching outside came in with empty duffel bags and filled them with guns, bullets, and knives. When they took everything out they made for the exit. Three men were outside holding boxes of food and water. A few men had wild eyes as they escaped the building, running from the deeds they had done inside. They moved back into the woods where they walked along the same path as before heading to the bus and pushed inside, waiting for the rest to enter and taking a quick count before moving on to their next target.

"Just one more then we go home," Abraham said to the quiet men and women in the bus. He looked over at Sasha and gave her a kiss.

Abraham dug through the duffel bags of weapons, "well lookie here," he said pulling out a grenade. He clipped it to his pants. "This may just come in handy." He pulled out two more and also hooked those to his belt.

Daryl stared at the darkness outside the windows. Home. He wanted to be home. He needed this over. The takedown went quick, easy. The next one would be the same, he was sure of it. Then he'd be back with Harley.

* * *

They were pinned down. Ezekiel and Daryl lay behind a decaying brick wall as a rain of bullets fell from the sky. He couldn't see the rest of his team. Abraham and Sasha were running for cover when he last saw them. He lost track of Glenn, Heath, and Tara.

Behind them fallen members of their team lay, some with eyes open, mouths agape, a few with half their faces torn away from bullets.

Ezekiel's face was panicked as he held onto Shiva. Daryl touched his shoulder, "keep it together King. Keep it together and we make it out alive." Ezekiel nodded and gripped his gun bringing it over the wall and firing.

There was a loud boom. Daryl looked around and saw Abraham a few yards away holding a grenade. He pulled the pin and threw it at the outpost, another loud boom rung out.

"Keep low and move," Daryl shouted at Ezekiel and the ran towards Abraham as a lull in the shots from the Saviors gave them time. Sasha swung around and began letting off shots. A few members of the team were beside them also firing.

"You think we can make it inside," Daryl asked Abraham who was sliding a magazine into his submachine gun.

Abraham moved from behind his section wall and let out a steady barrage of shots, sweeping the gun side to side. He sat back down and looked at Daryl with a wild look of joy. "Nope."

Walkers were spilling from the trees behind them. Daryl aimed his rifle and began picking off the ones closest to them. Other men began dealing with the walkers who beginning to multiply before their eyes. A herd was forming and coming for them.

More gunfire rang out from the Saviors and Abraham once again sprayed them with bullets. Someone must have gotten free or got to a radio to warn these guys. The Saviors were waiting for them when they had walked out the woods. Firing as they stepped from the trees, picking them off as the rest scattered for safety.

"It's quiet," Sasha said. "We need to get out of here."

Abraham waved his hand over his head while giving a sharp whistle. "Retreat," he yelled. "Back to the fucking bus."

Men broke off and started running. In the distance Daryl saw Heath and Glenn shooting at walkers as they disappeared into the woods. He turned to Ezekiel who was shooting at the walkers advancing on them, "time to go."

Ezekiel nodded and took Shiva off her chain. "Time to go baby. Follow me."

Abraham gave one last spray at the Saviors before throwing another grenade. They got up and began running. Some of their men were on the ground being devoured by the walkers that kept spilling towards them. The ones that were still alive were shrieking and gurgling.

Daryl paused, not far from him lay Tara. Her eyes open, the lower part of her face gone, and her body being torn apart by walkers. He felt a hand on him, tugging at him. "We will mourn them when we reach safety," Ezekiel bellowed.

They ran a wide gap around the walkers, taking them away from the path they had followed through the woods to get to the outpost as the creatures broke off into two groups. One group headed towards the Saviors and the other followed them.

Crashing through the trees, Daryl's face got whipped by branches, his arms torn open by thorns. The small group he was with scrambled along an embankment of a stream trying to get back on the path to safety. The moans of the walkers engulfing the air as they chased them. They ran towards the stream, some stumbling over the slippery rocks as they made their way across and scrambled up the other side.

"No Shiva," Daryl heard Ezekiel scream behind him as he splashed through the water. The walkers were close on their heels. The stench of death swallowing them up. Ezekiel ran after his pet who ripped the head off a walker closing in on them. Another one grabbed Ezekiel and tugged him to the ground, the man fought, hitting and pushing at the dead thing on him. Shiva ran up and grabbed the thing off her master and shook it violently as Ezekiel got up.

"Come girl. Come." Ezekiel began running once more across the stream and made his way to the other side of the bank. Daryl began running too, sure that Ezekiel and Shiva were now behind him. He heard the King breathing hard close behind him when a terrified roar went out.

Both men stopped and turned. The walkers swarmed around the cat as she fought to get free, grabbing them in her teeth, swiping them with her large paws. There were too many. They bore down on her and began to rip at her fur, pulling it away as she cried out. They fell on her, pinning her into the stream and bit down, ripping her flesh.

 _Go, run, go_ , Daryl screamed at himself. He reached forward and grabbed Ezekiel's arms and pulled. "We have to go. If you die, she died in vain."

Ezekiel turned to him, eyes wet and red and he gave a curt nod. The men scrambled up the side of the embankment and pushed further into the woods. Daryl used the machete to slash at any walker that got too close as they ran through the dense mass of trees towards the road where the bus was parked.

They ran towards it and banged frantically on the door. It opened and they got inside. Ezekiel slumping down in a chair, silent tears streaming down his face.

"Is that it?" Abraham asked. "Anyone else behind you?"

Daryl shook his head. Everyone else was dead.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you all for reading and a special thanks to those who take the time to review. I won't be posting the next chapter next Sunday as I will be traveling but I will be back with the new chapter the following Sunday. So no worries, there is more to come.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Another chapter as promised. Thank you all for following and faving this story. I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

Chapter 14 -

Father Gabriel sat on the watch tower next to Harley looking over the books of the cartographers with a small penlight. He told her he couldn't sleep. After feeding the men and giving them a change of clothes he had fallen into an uneasy sleep that didn't last too long. He lay in bed for an hour after waking then decided to join her on the tower to find out what she found in the bags.

Harley heard a lot of 'dear Gods' escape his lips as he went through the maps and read the parts of the notes that weren't in code. At one point she thought she heard him crying. She ignored it, letting him have his moment. She was still processing everything herself. She had only just learned of communities here on the outskirts of the capital and suddenly the whole world had just exploded before her with the turn of a page. These maps made her want to go out and find other groups herself. To confirm it was all true. How did they live, thrive?

He finally closed the last book and placed it back in the bag and sat unmoving, deep in thought. Harley sat down next to him, the bags of the men between them, and looked his way. "You okay Father?"

He nodded his head. "Are you a religious woman Harley?" he asked her.

"I wasn't before all this." She still wasn't but sometimes she had found herself wondering if this was the wrath of God come down upon them.

Father Gabriel snorted bitterly. "Most people lose their faith after something like this."

"Did you?"

Father Gabriel was silent, he played his fingers against his knees which were drawn into his chest, his head face up to the bright stars in the sky.

"I think I did. I did things no godly man should do. Would do. I was weak and cowardly. Cruel. But I found my way back to the lord, stronger than I ever was."

Harley put her hands on his, more to stop the incessant drumming of his fingers against his legs than to comfort him. "But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength."

"Amen," Father Gabriel said. "You know the Bible?"

"A few things here and there." She removed her hands from his and hoped he would not go back to his nervous tapping. "I'll tell you one thing. If there is a god he has sent down his four horsemen on us. Outside these walls ride famine, pestilence, war and death and we are the unfortunate ones who get to witness his apocalypse."

"No. We are the fortunate ones who get to rebuild this world. Possibly into something better than it was before."

It was Harley's turn snort bitterly. She knew Father Gabriel's story. How he locked his congregation, neighbors and friends out of his church. How he let them all die in his cowardice. Daryl had told her everything. Now this man was a protector. A fighter. A killer. Perhaps the end of the world had made him better. Stronger.

She certainly had no idea how resilient she could be until this all happened. How determined she was to live. How cold she could turn her heart in order to save herself. The most surprising thing to her was the fact she still had her humanity. She could still find joy. Even alone in the woods she would find herself laughing at the memories she had of her sister. Of her nephews and niece. But, inevitably, her mind would shift to the last time she saw them. Their faces ashen, their eyes hollow and dim, their mouths rimmed with blood. And then the baby. Tiny remnants of her scattered on the floor.

Was this really better?

"What denomination are you Father?"

"Episcopalian."

"Do you take confession?"

"No, I do not." Father Gabriel turned to Harley. "Do you have something to confess?"

"No," Harley lied. Thinking about her sister made her want to tell someone why she didn't put her or her sons down. Why she left them to wander in torment, in unending life with an unending need to feed.

Harley saw the slow rise of the sun in the far horizon and stood up. Grabbing the bags of the men she looked down at Father Gabriel, "can you cover my watch for the last few hours? I can start early tonight."

Father Gabriel nodded and slung his rifle over his shoulder and stood up to watch over the wall as she climbed down the ladder and headed to the prison cell.

* * *

A bare bulb hung from the ceiling outside the cell. The men were awake, sitting next to each other on the single bed in the cell, their backs against the wall, whispering to one another. They got quiet when Harley walked in, carrying their packs.

She dropped their bags along the wall behind her and stood silently, staring at them. They both wore a clean pair of pants and t-shirts.

The tall man walked up to the bars. "How long are you going to keep us locked in here? Your sign on the road said 'Mercy for the Lost'."

She regarded him. He didn't look angry, more worried. Probably wondering what they had in store in for them. "It also says 'Vengeance for the Plunderers'." Dick sat up when she said that. "I cannot let you out, not before our leader gets back. He'll want to speak with you. You're well taken care of here. Did you eat well? Do the clothes fit? Have a nice bath?"

"Where are our clothes?" Dick asked. His attitude as pleasant as ever.

"We're going to have to burn them. Your shoes are being washed as are your raincoats."

"You went through our things?"

"Yes. Is that how you made it so far? Walking in the guts?"

The tall man nodded his head.

Harley opened on of their bags and pulled out a map book. "And these."

"What about them?" the tall man asked.

"Tell me about these." She handed the book to him between the bars.

He opened the book, turning to a page he placed the tracing paper down over it and showed her the new territory. "This is a settlement called Haven Hope. There were almost two hundred people living there. They took over two towns, at first using cars as barriers against the dead before building walls out of steel. They grew food, had animals, an army of sorts. Everyone had a job to do, even the children. They had strict rules about safety and crime. It was a good place. Being far from the city they weren't too overrun and they dealt quickly with the ranks."

"The ranks?" Harley was confused.

"That's what we call them. You know, because they're rank? They called them laz. After Lazareth from the Bible." He flipped to another page. He pointed to a settlement that had a skull and crossbones.

"What does the skull and crossbones mean?"

"Dangerous settlements. This one was ran by men who would take and trade women. Breed them like livestock and use them up. When they were no longer needed or wanted for babies or sex they were made to work. We almost didn't make it out there alive. Had to sneak out in the night."

"World's really not safe for women," Dick said. "Some of the places we've seen would talk about breaking in women like horses. They'd use them as currency. For food, weapons, things like that. A lot of sick shit out there. And age didn't really matter. Young boys too, like that kid out there. That group, the Rangers, they would have used him up quick."

Harley scowled. "I suggest you keep that tidbit to yourselves when the leader comes. That's his son."

"Are we in danger here?" the tall man asked. "Give it to us straight."

"Maybe, but not from us. We're at war. If we win, the worst we'll do is kick you out. If we lose," Harley looked at one then the other. "Then we're all in danger."

"War?" Dick said. "With who? Why?"

"A group who holds the other groups hostage. They demand half the supplies or they kill. That's about all I can tell you. I'm new here myself."

The men nodded.

"So," Harley clapped her hands together. "Tell me about yourselves." She reached down and picked up her own notebook and began to write.

The tall man was named Jerome. Dick was Thomas. Not Tom. Thomas. They were part of a group of gamers and fantasy role players from San Jose California who had paid close attention to the warning signs. They listened closely to reports of people who couldn't be killed. People who ate the flesh of others. People who began to rise from the dead. They traded information with other watchers on the internet, preparing for the coming darkness. Maxing out their credit cards on gathering supplies, somehow knowing that the bill would not matter, may never matter.

None of them were professional cartographers but had enough experience creating maps of the worlds they created on and offline. They had come together to survive, pushing their way into Northern California, trying to make their way into Canada, figuring the cold would slow down the dead, the ranks. They had made it half way to Sacramento, when, held up in a house, they devised a plan to document the new world that was forming slowly and horrifically before their eyes.

There were eight of them. Four territories were carved out for them to document. They gave themselves five years to complete their mission before they would meet up in a small town in northern Canada. They had decided the last day of the old world was December 31, 2011. The new world began January first the first year post apocalypse or PA. as they called it. She had seen their calendar but had paid no attention to it. Jerome pointed out that today was August 13, PA 3.

The men had passed through Arizona where they said the dead thrived with no sign of a proper winter and people had difficulty feeding themselves except on the far outskirts where the dead had to cross vast open land, there they would rot faster under the direct sunlight in the heat, making it harder for them to get to the groups of the living.

In Texas, people had many strong holds, lots of guns and was so dangerous they tried their best to go unnoticed. Bandits raced up the streets, killing anything they thought was dead. Taking anyone they thought was living. It was almost wholly unsafe for women and children unless they had a strong group of men around them.

In Louisiana the gators had grown fat off the flesh of the dead. People built settlements in the middle of swamps on stilts where the dead could only get to them by stepping foot in the waters where the reptiles waited to take them to the bottoms to feed. New Orleans was dead. A few feral people still survived there but they were dangerous, covetous of the limited supplies left. Wary of the levies that would give way in the near future and flood the city completely.

The coastal areas of Georgia, South Carolina and North Carolina had cities on the sea made up of boats and barges anchored offshore. During the hurricane season they found shelter inland and worked to build permanent summer communities that would keep out the dead. Further in land was swarmed. The small towns fared the best as they were easier to barricade and they already had large swaths of land to grow food and raise animals.

Wilderness had begun to take over the cities. Wolves, deer and bears were growing in numbers. Packs and herds of them could be found throughout. Zoo animals also ran freely. They had seen the carcasses of giraffes and elephants, seen wild cats feast on the dead, heard monkeys in the trees. Thomas swore he saw a few gorillas.

Harley furiously took notes as she listened to them. She was almost envious of all the good things they had seen, the amazing encounters they had. But there was also a lot of darkness in this world. There always had been but now it blanketed civilization unchallenged. Unabated. It was free to grow and become nurtured into something more sinister than before.

* * *

The sun was rising in the sky, draping everything in its golden yellow glow when the bus pulled up outside Alexandria, the bus door opening up on the maze of cars. People got out and stood on the hoods of the cars, forming a line up to the walls and passed their looted supplies to each other down the line, laying them to rest on the ground before the wall until the bus was emptied of them.

Abraham led people carrying supplies to the house that held the armory and pantry, where they rested them on the porch to be divvied up between the three groups. He said he would get Olivia to rustle up some food for the group before they settled in for some much needed rest.

They were suppose to have twenty-four people on their team, but were only returning with fifteen. On the ride back everyone looked dejected. Abraham had shed a few tears when he noticed Tara was not there. Glenn and Heath had gone quiet, as if in shock. Neither showing any real emotion even though they were both close to her. Heath had spent weeks on the road with her doing runs and had probably known her better than anyone.

Ezekiel had been in quiet mourning on the bus. He had lost six of his people and Shiva. All Daryl could think to do was put his hand on the king's shoulder and give it a solid squeeze. Suddenly the king had stood and addressed the people on the bus.

"My people," he had started, "we have lost nine of our own. Nine who we cared for and loved. Nine who fought valiantly for our cause. Nine who will be missed but not forgotten." Ezekiel had paused a moment to gather his thoughts. "We are not done with this war. We may lose more men and women. But we will fight. Hard and strong until we have won. Our people will not, cannot, die in vain."

They had simply stared at the man. No one spoke a word until Abraham said silently, "fuckin' A."

"Fuckin' A," Sasha echoed him and then more murmurs of 'fuckin' A'. Then there was chanting. It was exciting to Daryl, to see them broken and hopeful, chanting Abraham's profanity with gusto as the bus drove through the dark roads back to Alexandria.

Then it had dwindled and died, returning the bus once more to silence and sadness.

As he walked towards the gate Daryl spotted Father Gabriel up on the watch tower. No sign of Harley anywhere.

"Where's my dad?" Carl asked immediately.

"Where's Harley?" Daryl countered.

"With some men. Where's my dad and Michonne?"

"They ain't back yet. What do you mean she's with some men?"

"Two men came last night looking for sanctuary. We put them in the cell."

Daryl didn't like the sound of that. Two men came in the night and they let them in? Were they Saviors? Part of some other dangerous group?

"They're good guys," Carl said, possibly reading concern on Daryl's face. "They're car-car-map makers. We got their weapons and put them naked in the cell."

Daryl's eyebrows shot up. _Naked_?

"They had underwear on," Father Gabriel called down to him. "They were stripped of weapons and placed in the cell where we cleaned and fed them and provided them with a change of clothes. They don't seem to be a threat and are legitimate in their claims."

Daryl nodded his head and went towards the cell that was built in one of the basements below the townhouses. Outside the gated door he could hear voices speaking low. He stepped through the door and stood in the hall that led to cell. He could hear more clearly now.

"Electric vehicles? Really?" Harley was asking one of the men. "What other things did they have?"

"They had a few windmills along with solar panels. Electricity was scarcely used though, but there were a few working outlets in the houses and lights on the street." The man speaking had deep voice. He sounded tired as he answered and there was an audible yawn from someone.

Daryl stepped out the hall into the room with the cell. He saw Harley sitting on the ground across from the men, writing in one of the notebooks Cola had given her. She didn't notice him step into the room. The men did though and both looked at him. They had seen better days. Both looked emaciated, their faces gaunt, the clothes they wore a few sizes too big.

"Hey," Daryl called out to her. Harley turned her head and looked up at him. Her face was impassive, she gave no hint of emotion as she studied him. Silently she stood and started putting things into the bags next to her. Once they were closed she lifted them up and without a word to anyone she walked from the room, past Daryl, and out the door. Daryl gave one last look at the men then followed her outside, where she stood waiting for him.

Harley's hands went around his waist as soon as he faced her. She squeezed him to her, her face pressed to his chest, and silently cried, her body shaking from sobbing. Daryl held her. He was swallowed in a strange kind of joy at her tears. She had been afraid for him. She had seemed so calm as she spoke to the men in the cell and now she was weeping, wetting his shirt with her tears. He felt love in her tears, in the way she gripped him tighter.

Not realizing how afraid she had been for Daryl the hot tears surprised Harley. She hadn't given their mission a conscious thought. Not once since they left had she thought about what they were out there doing. Not one thought of what could possibly happen to them out there. Not one thought that he may never come back. All her unthought of fears and worries came out when she saw him, alive and well, blood staining his face, his hair slick with it, his arms a roadway of scratches.

"Is it over?" Her voice was barely audible as she mumbled into her chest.

"No."

Harley pulled free of him and let out a deep breath. "You have to go back out there?" Daryl wiped her wet face and nodded. "When?"

"I'll know when Rick and Jesus get back. Soon." He kissed her neck, not trusting to touch her face with his, not knowing what he had on his face.

She went to the bags and picked them up. "Come, let's get you cleaned up. You look like shit."

* * *

She hadn't asked him about any details. She hadn't asked him much of anything. She helped him remove his clothes before removing hers and they stepped into the shower together where she gently bathed him and washed his hair. He watched blood run down the drain. His blood, Savior blood, walker blood. It all commingled on his body. He wanted the memories of yesterday to wash down the drain too. Their comrades being shot then reanimated at the Sanctuary. Tara dead by the second outpost, being feasted on by walkers, her chest cavity ripped wide, the hands of walkers sinking deep within her. Shiva being torn apart.

Daryl had never heard a sound like that of the large cat. The terror, the pain. He could still see her fur, hanging with pieces of flesh from the hands of the walkers. He could still see her muscles being torn by their rancid mouths.

He was tired. Not just physically but emotionally. Tired of all the killing he'd had to do the last few months. Tired of burying people he cared for. Tired of all the fucking dead walking around.

Worried eyes stared back at him when he looked at Harley. Her lips brushed lightly against the bruised knuckles of his hand and her small fingers danced over the bruises on his arms and shoulders.

 _I killed that man_ , he thought as he looked at the now purple mark that circled her arm. _I cut him open and watched him die with a pained look of fright_. Daryl leaned down and kissed her and pushed her body against the wall of the shower. His face pressed into hers, his mouth frantic as he shoved his tongue into her mouth. His hands gripped her breasts roughly in a mad frenzy as he tried to lose himself in her. Needing the taste of her mouth, the softness of her skin, the tightness of her sex to somehow ease the turbulence he was feeling.

He stopped as suddenly as he had started. Aware of the force he was using on her and was displeased by it. She deserved tenderness. Serene love making. Not the barbaric fucking he wanted at that moment.

He let Harley lead him out the shower. His mood blackened with each second. His emotions shut down. He felt his body sway as she toweled him off. He stood still as she wrapped the towel around his waist and went without protest as she led him into the bedroom and laid him down on the floor on his stomach.

Harley straddled over him, kneading the tension out his muscles with surprisingly skilled hands. He closed his eyes as the knots in his muscled untied, the soreness was stroked away. If only she could massage away his memories.

With each passing moment Harley had seen the look in Daryl's eyes change. By the time they had reached the bathroom he had the look of wild animal. Eyes dark and far away, his face swam with a brutal expression she imagined he wore when he was fighting the Saviors. She felt a slight fear of him in that moment. Afraid of what he had just done. Afraid of the kind of space his mind would have to be in to do those things.

She wasn't sure she wanted to know what had happened. Some secrets were better kept locked away. Sometimes it was better to imagine the events than to know the truth of them. The scratches on his body. His bruised knuckles. The fresh blood that had no cuts and scrapes underneath. The details didn't have to be divulged to her.

"I want to get in bed," Daryl said after what seemed like hours of being pampered and babied by her. She silently rose off him and he removed his towel and crawled into bed. Harley went to the dresser and began to put on a shirt and panties.

"Take that shit off." Harley turned to him at his surly command but said nothing as she stripped and got into bed with him. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be so gruff. I just want to feel you." He pulled her to him and she rested her head on his chest, her leg across his stomach as he stroked her back.

"Do you want to talk to me? About what happened?"

"Not now. When this is all over I will, but not now." He lifted her face to his to kiss her softly and she held on to him, kissing him deeply. He could feel her want for him, her want to make love to him but he couldn't. He still felt savage from the fight. He wanted to thrust his anger away inside her.

"I love you Harley," he gave her another kiss. "I said I was gonna tell you again." The smile he gave her was weak.

"Should I be worried about you?"

"No." _Maybe_.

He turned on his side and ran his fingers along her chest before bending his head to slowly kiss along one of her nipples and then the other. She grabbed his head tight to her and his lips traveled slow and wet along her skin.

"Do you want to make love?"

He looked up at her, the wild still in his eyes. "I do, but I can't. I won't be gentle."

"So don't be gentle," her hand guided his between her legs and she rubbed against his palm and he moaned into her chest. Maybe after he would finally relax, get that feral look off his face. Put him in the here and now. But it wasn't going to happen. He moved his hand and rolled on his back.

"I don't wanna be rough with you. Keep being sweet to me though. I like that."

Harley sat up and grabbed his arm and began to massage it from shoulder to fingertips. "Mmmm, that's nice," he murmured, closing his eyes. She hoped he would go to sleep, wake up with the past night a distant memory. "Can you do my legs too? Been running and bending too much."

Harley moved to sit between his legs and lifted one leg over her shoulder and massaged the thigh. Daryl groaned. After thoroughly working that leg she put it down and started with the other one.

"Aren't you tired?"

"Too wired to sleep," he said. "I feel like I could run a hundred miles right now."

"What did you do before, after fights?"

"Walk around the compound until I could barely stand. Go hunting. Go for long drives."

"Do you want to walk around for a while?"

"No."

She was tapped out. She lay back down in his arms. "I'm tired Daryl. But if you need me to, I'll stay up with you."

He kissed her. "You would wouldn't you?" He didn't wait for her answer. He grabbed her on top of him and kissed her again, deeper, licking his tongue against hers, letting his hand slide between her legs and rubbing her until she began to moan and grind against him. "I'mma need you to stay up a little while longer," he pushed his fingers in her. "Say, five more minutes or so."

Harley laughed. "Is that all? Five minutes." Her laughter turned to moans as he pulled her up higher on him and began to suck her nipples.

"Three if you keep up all that noise."

Daryl sat up to get better access to her as she sat astride him. He put his fingers in her mouth as he played his lips against her breasts.

Harley raised up and took hold of him and slid down around him. She slowly rose and fell on him, increasing her rhythm, the force of her thrusts. He would let her be in control, let her set the pace, let her determine how rough or gentle they were. Everytime she swallowed him up they both moaned and grunted. No thoughts other than what they were doing filled Daryl's mind. All else was forgotten in the pleasure of her body, in her gentle caresses, in the erotic sounds of her moans.

When they were both spent they lay wrapped up in each other. Harley was asleep and Daryl was finally relaxing. His last bit of tension had spilled into her with a shudder. This was better than long walks or drives or hunting. This was comfort and pleasure and love. This was what he had always secretly longed for and finally had.

* * *

"First thing, before the sun even rises, we head out." Rick looked half dead. His hair was tousled on his head, his eyes red and set back behind black circles. Dried blood rested around a gash in his forehead. The knuckles on his right hand bruised and bloody.

His group had arrived shortly after noon. They had lost a few people in their fight but had gained extra people from a nearby compound who ventured out to see the commotion and joined them in their fight. They had managed to destroy both outposts, killing all the Saviors inside and taking all their supplies.

Daryl watched bleary eyed from the corner, listening to the plan to storm the Sanctuary. To finish this. He didn't participate in the planning. He merely listened and looked at the faces of the people representing each group as they nodded in agreement and steadied their minds to continue on.

"We use one bus to lure the herd away from the compound and bring them here," Rick pointed to the map. "The people inside will get on the roof of the bus and take the herd down. Each person should have spears and a gun. When the herd is gone the rest of us go in." Rick surveyed the room, reading the faces of everyone there. "We have two choices here. We can go in and eliminate them one by one or we can burn the place down."

"I know we can't leave them standing, and maybe I'm a coward," Ted, one of the Kingdom men said, "But I don't want to look in the eyes of civilians and children when I send them on their way. I say we burn it and pick off anyone who comes outside. If there are people who look to not be a threat, maybe we can save them but going in, I don't want to do that."

A few others mumbled in agreement. Going inside would be dangerous. The factory was large, and Negan's men would be ready for a fight. They couldn't sneak from room to room in the dead of night surprising sleeping people unaware of what was coming. Then there were the civilians, the families that lived there. Even though the other plan of burning was going to be just as deadly to them, no one wanted to look at the death and depravity they were about to embark on.

"We have to give them another chance to surrender. At least the people with children. We can't just slaughter them all with no chance to get out," Lorrain from the Hilltop declared. "An hour. Give them an hour to send people out who want to leave. Allow them the chance to escape if Negan won't let them leave. Maybe they'll kill him for us."

"I agree," Michonne spoke up. "I can't massacre innocent people, no matter how misguided their choices were. I couldn't live myself, knowing I burned children."

"We can wait," Daryl spoke up finally. All eyes turned to him. "Send a group to lead the walkers away then wait. He'll come for us. He won't sit up in that tower of his once the way is clear. We stake out nearby and follow him out and stop him on the road. No need to go to him."

"That is true," Ezekiel said in agreement. "Negan is not a patient man. He may wait a day or two after we clear the herd, but no more than that. We set the other two busses nearby and keep a watchful eye. When he gathers what's left of his men to go to which ever community he thinks will be best to attack, we follow. Then we fight and take them down."

Rick nodded slowly. "The community he'll come for is this one. We've been a thorn in his ass since the beginning. He'll come to destroy this place." Rick thought a moment. "We're gonna have to carry a smaller group. People will have to be left here just in case. How many do we have left?"

"We returned with fifteen," Ezekiel said.

"And we have eighteen," Michonne offered. "Plus the additional ten who joined us."

 _Sixteen people lost_ , Daryl worked out quickly in his mind. "How many do we leave here?" He asked.

"How many do we have left? How many came back?" Rick countered.

"Thirty-three plus ten."

"We'll leave thirteen behind and take thirty with us." Rick yawned. "Ezekiel, Daryl, Jesus. Let's work this out quick then we'll speak to our respective groups. I need to get some sleep. Something tells me if Negan moves, he will move at night. That gives us the day to set up, fine tune the plan, and get some rest."

Abraham and Sasha went out to chose thirteen people to stay behind and help keep watch. Then they would gather them and walk them around the compound before they worked out a new watch schedule.

Daryl yawned loud and long then walked to the dining room to sit at the table to yet again hammer out another attack plan on Negan. After almost two hours they had settled on a plan and now they were discussing what to do with Negan if they were able to capture him and how to deal with the remaining Saviors.

Voices were raised, anger was shown, but the consensus was to execute Negan. Officially. The Saviors would be given a chance to change and become productive members of their network, but they would have to be watched closely and prove they were no longer a threat.

Daryl hoped Negan would be captured alive so that the rest of his people can see what will happen if they didn't fall in line. He didn't feel good about what they would have to do, but they could not allow people to interfere with survival when there was so much out there that interfered already. The dead, disease, disaster, starvation. Destructive forces that could be eliminated had to be.

* * *

Rick and Daryl headed down to cell with plates of food and fresh bottles of water. The two men were asleep on the cot head to foot. Rick wanted to meet them before he finally went home and got some much needed rest. Daryl wearily agreed it was best to check them out and get a feel for them before heading out again, make sure they weren't another threat in their midst.

Rick tapped on the bars of cell and both men's eyes opened and they sat up when they saw Rick and Daryl.

"We brought you something hot to eat," Rick said, going to the small door that was built into the wall of the cell for passing food back and forth.

Jerome got up and took a plate and passed it to Thomas before taking the second plate and sitting back down on the cot eating.

"I'm Rick," Rick said. "This is Daryl."

Daryl stared at them silently through the bars as they wolfed down their food. Jerome ate the last morsels of food and looked like he was contemplating licking his plate before he placed it on the floor of cell.

"That woman said we were safe here. From you at least. Was she lying?" Jerome asked as he stood to take the bottles of water from Daryl through the bars.

"Are you planning on doing anything to our group?" Rick asked.

"Besides observe and map out your territory? No."

"Then no."

"So can you let us out?" Thomas asked between long drinks of water. Daryl smiled remembering how Harley kept referring to him as Dick.

"Not today," Rick answered. "Harley, the woman who let you in, says you could be an asset to us. I just want to make sure her judgement of you was correct. Looking over your books I say it is."

As Rick spoke with the men Daryl observed. These men looked too weak to be a threat. Their bodies were emaciated, their eyes sunken in and had a look of complete exhaustion. They were weary of the questions but answered anyway. Jerome had more diplomacy than Thomas who was getting visibly annoyed at being held in the cage, having to piss and shit in the open like an animal.

Rick and Daryl stepped outside. "What do you think?" Rick asked him.

"I trust them. They're just a bunch of nerds on a mission. How they survived, I can't tell, but they don't strike me as dangerous."

"I agree. I think we should keep them here until this mess with Negan is over though. Can't have people looking out for Saviors and them at the same time. Harley is right though, they could help us with the next step, give us a view of how others are building their societies."

Daryl nodded. "We tell 'em to hold tight for now and ask them to stay a while. We can set them up in one of the basement units. Get two beds down there and get them rations. It'll be far better livin' that what they're use to, I guarantee."

"Yeah," Rick said wearily. "You mind finishing this up? I'm dead on my feet."

"Sure thing man."

Daryl went back in and faced the men. "Okay," he began, "we're gonna let you out but after this mess we're in is all done."

"Come on man," Thomas said.

"Look," Daryl barked. "You ain't being mistreated. You ain't being starved. You're being held. I guess all those other places you been to gave you better treatment. Just let you in like you was royalty."

The men stared blankly at him after his outburst. Thomas was about the open his mouth again but Jerome turned to him and shook his head.

"So what happens next?" Jerome asked.

Daryl took a deep breath. He was too tired for this shit. All he wanted to do was crawl into bed and finally get into a deep black sleep.

"Next? In exchange for information about the other places you've been, we'll offer you a place to stay and a steady supply of food. You both look like shit. Scrawny and weak. Get some meat back on your bones, build up your strength. There are two other communities we work with that will offer you the same." He handed Jerome his notebook along with a new one from Harley and a pencil. "Decode that book of yours for us too. Harley is kinda our self appointed historian. This will help her out. Give you something to do while you wait. It may be another few days but you'll be out."

"You got any girls here?" Thomas asked. "Man I haven't been laid in like forever. I used to get a whole lotta pussy before all this shit started."

"You are a whole lotta pussy," Daryl said and Jerome snorted.

"That Harley chick? She doesn't like me too much. Bet she'd be a good hate fuck."

Daryl laughed. He had no doubt Harley would not be living out Thomas' fantasy of hate sex with him. Listening to her tell stories about her dad, he knew Harley had a good bit of a mean streak in her. He could only imagine what she'd do to Thomas if he ever suggested such a thing to her. "I think you need to work on getting your strength back before you worry about all that."

Thomas shrugged. "Not really my type anyway. Too scrawny and her tits are too small."

"I don't think you're her type either," Daryl said evenly.

"No? What's her type man?" Thomas sat up, suddenly interested.

"Me."

Thomas slouched back down as Jerome looked anxiously between the two men.

"You gonna beat my ass now?" Thomas had lost all his bravado as he eyed Daryl.

"Nah," Daryl smiled at him. "You're the last man I'm worried about."

Jerome burst out laughing. "You have to forgive Thomas. He never had much people skills."

"Don't fret man," Daryl said to Thomas. "I'm sure between the three communities you'll find something you like."

"But will they like him?" Jerome asked. "That's the real dilemma."

"Ya'll hang tight," Daryl told them getting ready to leave. "Oh and I'll let Harley know you wanna hate fuck her. Would love to know what she'll have to say to you about that."

Daryl walked out with the sound of Jerome's laughter in his ears.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15 -

Harley's new shift was moved to midnight to 8 a.m. She stood next to Michonne, who was there due to Rick's request that she stay behind. If anything happened to him on the road, she'd still be there for Carl and Judith. They stared silently ahead at the wall before moving on the do another lap around the compound.

They would walk patrol around the wall in opposite directions and meet up again at the front of the gate for a few minutes before starting the walk over again. They rarely spoke to one another, mostly a few "hear anything out there?" followed by "no."

While the front wall had a maze of cars before it as well as the gate made up of two cars, the rest of the wall had cars parked parallel to it with a few feet of distance between them. Clusters of long spikes were nested in the ground along the wall, all of them embedded with evenly spaced nails pushing through the wood. The top of the wall had barbed wire, making the wall treacherous to climb. But still they patrolled. There were a few safe spots designated for quick escape and someone studying them might be able to figure out where those points were.

Daryl came to find her on her walk behind the townhouses at the wall by the farm. He grabbed her up in his arms lifting her off her feet, giving her a kiss.

"Taking off soon," he said to her as he put her back on the ground. "Not sure when we'll be back."

"But you're coming back." It was a statement.

He nodded, with a slight smirk on his face. "Yeah, I'm coming back. And I want another bath and massage when I do. Now don't go sneaking into the cell to get with Thomas while I'm out." A smile crept up on Harley's face before slipping back into worry. "We're ready for this." His tone was serious as he stroked her arm with his forefinger. "This ends today."

She nodded her head and walked with him to the front gate where the others were gathering. At 4 a.m. the team headed out to go to the Sanctuary. Harley stood next to Michonne watching them file out in the dark of the early morning.

She wouldn't allow herself to dwell on what they were heading into until they came back. She would focus on what she was out there to do now, which was protect Alexandria. She waited silently until she could no longer hear the sound of the busses, the went for another walk around the compound.

Near the back of the compound, as she passed Michonne, Harley felt the woman touch her arm. Harley stopped and turned to her.

"Don't worry," Michonne said, coming to stand next to Harley. "This is what we do."

Harley nodded. "I've been with a lot of groups. This is the first one I felt I could depend on."

"And where you found someone to care about?"

"Yeah."

Michonne smiled. "Me too. I was out there alone for a long time before I met a woman named Andrea and we survived together for almost eight months. She had been with Rick's group earlier but they had been separated. Then she and I were separated. It was only by chance I met up with Rick at the prison." Michonne got quiet for a time but Harley waited patiently for her to continue.

"After a while, after I learned to trust and feel comfortable again with others, I knew I had finally found a home."

"And love."

"Well, that came later. One year and some months later."

Harley chuckled. "Talk about a slow burn. You were almost ash by the time that came about."

Michonne laughed. "I guess I was." She turned to Harley. "You have a home here too. Daryl. I've never seen him like this before. I guarantee he's going to come back. He'll do whatever it takes. He's like Rick in that way. He fights hard for those he loves."

Harley's mind went back to the worry. Even with Michonne's words the thought of losing Daryl, no matter how hard he fought it, gave her a feeling she didn't think she had in her. It hit home how much he meant to her, how strong she felt about him, about them. Michonne had been with him longer and knew how he was out there better than she did and she told herself to believe the woman's words. To not worry, to not dwell on the what ifs. He was coming back. Whole and safe.

"See you in the front?"

"Yeah," Harley said turning to continue her walk. "Hey Michonne?" Michonne turned to her. "Thanks."

Michonne smiled at her then they parted ways.

At the front Dragon stood by the gate and Dominic manned the watch tower. One of the members from the group that had joined Rick's crew at the outpost walked back and forth along the front of the wall. Harley had forgotten his name but he was a part of a small group that sheltered in a small office building. They had no means to grow food where they were and weren't well armed, but they were bullied and battered by the Saviors none the less and had to give up half their meager rations that they scavenged from nearby towns.

"Do you love him?" Michonne asked as they met in the center at the front of the wall.

"Yes, I do. I think from the moment I saw him." Harley thought a moment. "He's good. Not hard and cruel."

"I'm glad. Daryl needs someone to love him. And you're good for him too."

"How so?" Harley looked over at Michonne.

"Well, he bathes now," Michonne laughed. "He seems to have some burden lifted off him. He doesn't scowl as much. He seems less reckless." Michonne eyed Harley for a moment. "Can I ask you a question?" Harley nodded. "Did Daryl ever tell you what he did for a living? You know, before all this?"

"Yes."

"What was he?"

Harley smiled at Michonne, "homicide cop," she said. Michonne laughed.

Suddenly Dominic dropped down from the tower and hissed loudly, "someone's coming."

Michonne and Harley looked at one another before the sound of bullets hitting the wall rang out. Everyone dove for the ground as a few bullets penetrated the steel and landed on the grass and asphalt.

"You fuckers," someone outside the gates yelled. "You destroyed our place. Killed our people and infested the Sanctuary. Now it's your turn. We're coming in and killing you all."

"The outpost," Harley whispered to Michonne. She felt relief. It wasn't Negan and his men but people from the second outpost Daryl and his team tried to take.

"We know you're alone," the voice said. "We saw your busses leave."

Michonne stood. "Get outside the gate, we take them out outside that gates, " Harley nodded. Michonne turned to the men that were standing guard with them. "Stay here and make sure no one gets in. Dominic, back on that tower." Dominic nodded and began to climb.

Dragon hesitated until Michonne hissed, "get back to that gate. You're the last line of defense for us."

Harley took off running to the side of the wall where the safe spots were. She jumped up and grabbed the top of the wall and pulled herself up and over, holding her arrows in her quiver as she dropped down outside the wall.

She slid over a car to the other side and got down low and crouch walked behind the maze of cars that lined the front. In the graying light of the early morning she saw the men standing within the maze of cars, ducking every time Dominic fired at them and returning fire when he stopped. She counted seven.

In the distance she saw the shadow of Michonne creep up behind one man. For a moment he stood, holding his gun up to the gate, in the next moment his head disappeared, only his body stood. Harley heard the head hit a car and then watched the body crumble. _Fuck me_ , she thought as she nocked an arrow and fired at the head of a man crouched behind a car. She hit the ground and could hear the murmur of fear from the remaining five.

There was an audible click sound. She heard Dragon yell behind the wall, "SCATTER," and saw Dominic fall over the wall and throw himself before the maze of cars before an explosion rocked the interior of Alexandria. Stunned, Harley got on her knees, her arrow nocked, and fired at another of the Saviors. _Four left_.

Harley crept along the maze, getting closer to the remaining Saviors. She saw Dominic swing around a car and fire at the men who were opposite him. She had no sight of Michonne. There was another clink sound and then a shrill, piercing scream.

"GET DOWN," Michonne yelled and Harley pressed her body on the ground and rolled under a car. The explosion sent ripples through her body as dirt rained down on the ground. Behind the din the explosion caused she could still hear the screaming, then silence. _Three left_.

Focusing her eyes, Harley looked under the cars as she still lay under hers and saw two pairs of legs two, maybe three rows ahead of her. Harley got from under her car and climbed on the vehicle in front of her, nocked her arrow and shot down at one of the men, sending his body into the car before him. The man next to him turned, his eyes wild, his hand empty of weapons. He slowly stood, arms rising into the air in surrender. His body trembled. "Please," he started to say as he chest pushed forward and sprayed blood around the blade of Michonne's sword that came through it. Michonne pulled it out and his body fell.

A shot rang out and she jumped off the car and hit the ground. "I got him," Dominic yelled. Harley slowly got up and climbed to the roof of a car and looked around. Two Saviors lay next to her car. Another lay on the road. On the opposite side she saw a man sprawled on the hood of a car, a river of blood running from his head.

"Drag the bodies to the edge of the woods. We'll burn them later," Michonne said. She turned her head behind her, "that one is mangled. We'll need a shovel for him."

The dead began to gather behind the cars, drawn by the gunfire and explosions. Harley gathered her three spent arrows as Dragon and a few others came out of the compound. She saw Carl run out towards Michonne and grab her in a hug before surveying the scene.

Harley stood on the hood of a car and began to take down the dead that snarled at them. The others worked in teams of two to pick up the Saviors and lining them side by side on the ground by the cars. They would have to wait until the way was clear of the dead to drag the bodies over the vehicles and lay them at the edge of the woods.

Someone brought out a blanket and Dragon began placing the body parts of the man who was throwing the grenades in it before tying the blanket like a sack and carrying it over to the others.

Harley spent the rest of her shift on the cars taking down the dead and gathering her arrows. Along the side of the walls Dragon, Dominic, Michonne, Carl and man from the other group whose name was Tim, were standing on cars with spears taking care of the dead there. The others went back inside.

 _Tonight_ , Harley thought to herself. _It all ends tonight_. She nocked her arrow and took out another dead.

* * *

The bus was parked across the road. Rick sat on the top with a walkie getting updates constantly on the movement within the Sanctuary. The other fourteen people on board slept or ate or, like Daryl, walked around.

The second bus, loaded with six people, had reached the Sanctuary just as the sun peaked over the horizon and was able to lead the herd off. Almost two hours later they radioed in and told them they were all taken care of. The third bus of nine was parked on a road above the Sanctuary keeping lookout, watching for any moves Negan and his men would make.

So far, all they had to report was that a few men had come out and taken down the rest of the walkers who were still at the compound before they went back inside. At noon, the Saviors began to repair the fence that had been knocked down during the attack.

Daryl had slept a few hours before eating. Now he walked in the woods staying close to the road where they were stationed, keeping cool under the canopy of trees. He moved silently between the trunks, eyes focused on his surroundings, ears open to the sounds below the rustle of leaves.

The waiting was hard. Every time Rick asked into the radio for an update and the reply was, "no movement," he sighed. Rick sat slumped and bleary eyed, holding the walkie like his life depended on it. Daryl had brought him food and made him nap at around 2 p.m., almost dragging the man physically from his spot.

Walkers came few and far between, easily dispatched by the rest of the team. Some of them would rifle through the clothing of the walkers and a few found knives and guns and cigarettes. Daryl and another man split a pack and he sat smoking on the roof of the bus, tapping the walkie against his foot.

There was a crackle on the walkie. "We have movement," the voice on the other end whispered. It was Glenn. "They're getting men into trucks and Negan is barking orders. Over"

"Got it. Let us know when they start to move and how far behind them you are. Make sure the other bus is ready. Over." Daryl started climbing off the bus.

"Copy that," Glenn replied.

Daryl woke Rick. They gathered their weapons and took their positions behind the back of the bus. Six men ran to the woods, three on each side, to flank Negan and his crew. Daryl was one of them. He climbed up a tree, making sure he had good cover and a good view of the road. He checked his supplies. His cross bow was around his shoulder. The rifle hung from a nearby branch, an extra clip in his back pocket. He sat with his back against the trunk of the tree and waited for updates from Rick. Negan and his crew were heading out early. It was only 5 p.m. If they didn't have roadblocks blocking the way of the Saviors, Negan and his men would reach Alexandria before nightfall.

"They're moving," Daryl heard Rick shout out. Daryl stood on his branch and watched the road. "They've got two trucks and twenty people. Get ready. They'll be here in ten to fifteen minutes."

Every minute ticked by slowly. Daryl realized his palms were wet and he wiped them on his pants. He tried counting to pass the time but his mind kept wandering. Thinking of what life would be like after all this. How would they build, grow? What would they become? What kind of world would they carve out?

Daryl could hear the trucks. One was the delivery truck and the other was a smaller Toyota with two people in the cab and three people on back. They slowed and came to a stop when they saw the bus blocking the road. No one got out. Daryl could hear the muffled curses of Negan. The trucks began to back up but stopped as the other two busses pulled up behind them, blocking the road by pulling their front ends up against each other.

The Saviors did not move. For a long time they sat in between their enemies and watched, waiting for the three groups to make a move. The three groups stood still. Nothing but silence filled the gap during the standoff.

"Get out the fucking trucks," Rick yelled out. No movement. The moments ticked on in silence as the groups stared each other down.

Daryl held up his crossbow and fired it into the neck of one of the men in the back of the Toyota then pressed his body against the trunk of the tree, hiding himself behind the leaves and branches. _Get out and fight you fucking cowards_. He reloaded his crossbow.

"You're not safe in there Negan," Rick said. "Come out and face us. Let's end this."

Daryl moved forward and looked back at the road. The men in the back of the Toyota were now laying down. Someone climbed on the roof of the bus behind the Saviors and threw a flaming bottle. It landed in the back of the Toyota and burst into flames. The molotov cocktail sent the men running out of the cab and truck bed. Daryl kept an eye out, making sure none of them attempted to run into the woods.

Daryl heard the back of the delivery truck roll up and saw men come spilling out. Negan and the man driving the truck also got out. Negan held his hands out to his side. "Now what Rick? Do I get on my knees and suck your dick?"

"No. You die."

A man tried to stealthily pull a grenade hanging from his belt. Daryl aimed at him and watched his hands carefully. As soon as the pin was pulled Daryl fired, hitting him in the head. The Saviors turned and looked down at the man and began to run when they saw what was in his hands. The grenade exploded, then there were screams in the confusion. Gunfire broke out. He could not tell from who. It sounded like everyone. Coming from all directions, even from the woods next to him. Daryl grabbed his rifle and began firing in the direction of the Savior's vehicles, having no idea if he was hitting anything or not.

The air was filled with popping noises, screams, and the pinging of bullets hitting against steel. He heard glass shatter and moans growing in the distance behind him. As the walkers crept through the woods Daryl took aim at them and began putting them down.

The firefight died. He watched Negan and few others crawl from beneath the trucks. There were eight left from what he could see. A few had turned and were lumbering towards the living only to be shot down by the people at the busses. Daryl spotted Dwight and sneered. He grabbed his rifle and climbed down from the tree and made his way to edge of the woods, hidden behind the thick foliage.

"On your knees," Rick bellowed. Eleven men got down on their knees. "Give us Negan and we'll let the rest of you go. Or we kill you all right here, right now."

The men looked at their leader who stoically looked ahead.

"Five seconds to decide," Rick said. "Five." The men looked at each other. "Four." Negan breathed heavily, his face hardening. "Three." One man stood up and hit Negan on the back of his head, sending him sprawling to the ground.

* * *

Negan lay in the road hog tied and gagged. The other Saviors sat against the bus, stripped of their weapons as they watched the delivery truck being emptied of everything inside and hauled off to the busses.

Abraham sat in the bus with Sasha. She had ripped his shirt and used it as a tourniquet around his thigh where he was shot. Ezekiel, Rick, Jesus and Glenn were off to the side speaking to each other. Daryl stood guard over the Saviors. He would flick his eyes to the other men but focused on Dwight who had not raised his head once to meet his glare.

Daryl squatted down in front of Dwight. "You scared?" he asked, bending his head trying to get a look at Dwight's face. "Think you gonna die?" Dwight swallowed and lifted his head to meet Daryl's eyes. Daryl smiled. "You think they don't know you betrayed them to us?"

The men closest to them looked at Dwight whose face fell. They were glaring and scowling at him.

"I guess they didn't," Daryl looked at the men lined up before focusing attention back on Dwight. "Now they do."

The looks on the other Savior's faces told Daryl that if he wasn't able to kill Dwight, these men most certainly will. _Good_ , he thought, _motherfucker_.

"You better see if they'll take you," one man said to Dwight, "If not, you ain't gone make it through the night."

Daryl leaned forward and whispered in Dwight's ear. "Take a good look around. This may be your last night on earth."

Daryl stood up and called someone over to keep watch. He walked around the busses, watching people tend to their wounds. Rosita slumped against a bus with a cloth tied around her shoulder.

"You okay?" Daryl asked walking up to her.

"Got hit by a large piece of glass," she answered wincing. "I'll live."

Daryl pulled Harley's bandana off his arm and began soaking it in vodka. "Here," he said removing Rosita's binding and replacing it with the soaked bandana. "This'll hurt but it'll stop the germs."

Rosita hissed as the alcohol hit her still bleeding gash. Daryl tied it tight as possible then stood back to survey his handiwork. "Good?"

"Yeah, it's good. Burns like a bitch."

"It's worth it. Trust me. You don't want an infection."

"Okay listen up," Rick's voice bellowed out. Daryl moved back near the Saviors where everyone was gathering. "We're taking Negan back with us and letting the rest of you go. We're giving you a chance to change. To evolve into something better. To start to care for yourself and become a part of a network that you contribute to."

The men on the ground just stared.

"And if we don't?" one man snarled at Rick.

Rick stood before him and squatted down. "If you don't," Rick said quietly. "Then we come back and finish what we started. We kill everyone inside the Sanctuary. We kill all of the Saviors." Rick stood back up. "Listen and listen good. If anyone of the Saviors tries to pick up where Negan left off we destroy every last one of them." Rick walked back and forth in front of the captured men. "All the men. All the women." Rick stopped and glared down at them. "All the children. All of you."

Daryl didn't know how serious Rick was but he wasn't about the question him in front of the group. But he could see the Saviors thought he was serious.

"Get that motherfucker on the bus," Rick pointed at Negan. "We hold him until the day of his execution."

Two Kingdom men lifted Negan up and walked him to the bus. Daryl watched them haul him to the back of the vehicle and then unceremoniously drop him on the floor with a thud.

The other men were lifted to their feet. "Leave." Rick said. They looked around before starting to head towards their delivery truck. "Uh-uh. You go back on foot."

The men walked towards the two busses that had backed away from each other far enough to allow people to pass through. Everyone else followed behind them to watch them on their walk of shame.

Dwight hesitated, knowing he would not make it back to the Sanctuary. He turned to look at Rick. "Let me stay with you?" he practically begged. "They know what I did. That fucker gave me up," Dwight pointed to Daryl who smirked at him.

Rick looked like he was considering it and Daryl bristled. "No," Daryl said. "Fuck no. This guy's got no loyalty. I helped him and his wife and he betrayed me. He killed Denise with an arrow meant for me. He was in so good with Negan that he was leading a team. Then he betrayed Negan. This guy will betray us too when the next best thing comes along."

Rick said nothing. Daryl felt every nerve in his body stand on end, his muscles tensed. He knew what was coming next and he decided in an instant that it was the only thing to do

"He's not coming with us," Daryl growled. "He's not going with them either."

At that the rest of the Saviors went on, not looking back as they passed between the two busses and headed towards their home in the dwindling light.

Daryl looked at Dwight, at the recognition of what was happening that slid over the man's face.

"You had a chance man," Daryl addressed Dwight. "You decided to shit all over it and become a fucking terror. People like you don't deserve this world."

Daryl held up his crossbow and pulled the trigger. The arrow pierced Dwight through his right eye. The same eye he had shot Denise through. Like Denise, he did not fall right away. His body remained upright and swayed slightly like a leaf in the wind. Everyone stood in silence and watched the dead man's knees buckle and give way, sending him crumpling to the ground, blood streaming from his eye like tears.

* * *

Once the dead were dispatched Harley and Dragon walked into the woods with shovels to find a clear spot to dig a hole to bury the dead in. The others worked in twos to bring the bodies near the edge of the pit that was being dug. No one spoke.

Harley was tired. Others who had not been on duty looked shook up at the experience. They looked around nervously as they carried the bodies through the woods and hurried back to the compound once they dropped them.

Carl and Michonne went out to scout the area to make sure there weren't more Saviors hiding nearby to bring on another attack.

When the hole was dug they went about kicking the bodies into it. Jumping in a few times to arrange them so they spread out more. Dragon poured gasoline on the mound then struck and match and lit the bodies on fire.

He and Harley stood and watched the bodies burn, the clothes disappeared, the skin melted. The smoke and the smell made them both cough and step away. They sat down together and watched the fire burn in silence.

As the fire died Harley stood up and began scooping dirt on the smoldering ashes. Dragon put a hand on her shoulder, "you did good today." He looked down at the burned bodies in the pit. "This," he pointed to the pit, "this is sometimes what has to be done to survive."

Harley nodded her head at him and together they covered the pit with dirt.

"Do you feel bad?" she asked Dragon as they walked back to Alexandria. "When you kill people? Do you feel guilty?"

He shrugged.

"I don't feel bad," she said pausing.

"Sometimes it's exhilarating," Dragon admitted. "There's this rush you get when you fight for your life and end up on the right side of things. In the past, you weren't suppose to be so cavalier about death but now, you don't even remember the faces, don't even care. You're still standing and that's all the matters. You close your eyes at night and dream your sweet dreams like it didn't even happen."

They started walking again. Dragon looked up at the sky. "It's gonna be a beautiful day."

* * *

"You think I was wrong?" Daryl asked Rick as they drove together back to Alexandria in the delivery truck they took from the Saviors. Taking the truck had been a last minute decision that was made after Abraham made the suggestion of building gallows to hang Negan from.

"You watched me kill a man by biting through his neck. Who am I to tell you if you were wrong?" Rick looked over at him before looking back at the road as he drove. "I think you were right about Dwight. He has no loyalty. The Saviors aren't gonna be the last group we have to fight. No telling what he'd do if he were placed in a position to betray us if the offer was right."

Daryl sat chewing on his thumb. He felt like he was about to come undone. In two days he had killed five men. His mind was flashing between the man with his intestines falling out of him and Dwight, swaying slightly with an arrow in his eye.

"It's done Daryl. Over."

"It's not done until we string Negan up. Until then, we still gotta worry about his men trying to rescue him." Daryl angrily lit a cigarette. "Ain't you tired? I'm fucking tired. I just want a moment of fucking peace. Not worrying about who's coming next to kill me or those I care about. I want to start growing, expanding. Turn Alexandria into a functioning village and settle the fuck down. Have some babies or some shit. A dog. Sit on my porch and smoke a pipe."

Rick laughed. "Jesus Daryl. What the fuck happened to you?" Rick reached over and patted Daryl on the shoulder. "That's what we're doing here. I don't think the Saviors are going to come after us. They're down to nine fighters and fifty civilians. They ain't going nowhere. After this we take a short break. Maybe two weeks, maybe a month. Then we start expanding. Build our village. Get more people. I think that group that helped us would make a good addition."

"Yeah," Daryl said, sounding drained.

"Yeah. After Negan is gone we need to work out what we want from these communities and then get together and work out a trade. But first, we need to figure out how much we can expand and what we can produce for ourselves. Carve out fields to do real farming, build more houses, get more electricity, get a doctor. I want to see if I can convince that dentist to stay with us. We need horses and other animals. We'll hash it out then work to bring it to fruition. We'll get there, in time. But first we rest. Only worry about guarding the gate and eating."

Daryl flicked his butt out the window and heard Rick chuckle.

"You really want babies man?"

Daryl stared at Rick and shrugged. "I've been thinking all kinds of shit right now. Asking myself what I want from all this. Besides the village. Been wanting that for a while." He frowned. "I mean, if we're gonna make a proper go of this. Settle down, build, grow. I don't know. A family doesn't sound too bad."

"And what does Harley think of all this?"

Daryl shrugged. "No idea. It's just a feeling I suddenly have. We haven't gotten that far. I've only known her a few weeks. To be honest I never saw myself settled down. A wife, kids? Never saw that in the cards."

"Now you do?"

"Yeah. I guess so." Daryl looked at Rick. "Why'd it take you so long to know about Michonne? You were even chasing after that blonde chick for a time. What's her name?"

"Jessie," Rick said tightly.

"Yeah, her. Would you be with Michonne now if Jessie lived?"

Rick kept his eyes on the road, not looking at Daryl. Daryl wondered if he'd answer. Maybe the question was too personal for him.

"You don't have to answer."

"No. It's fine. Jessie," Rick paused. "Jessie reminded me of Lori. I got lost in the fantasy of Alexandria. The houses, the safety, the sound of children. I thought I could have what I had before with her. But I soon realized I could never have that again. I was a different man. A harder man. A man who was made by this world. A man who had left the old world behind. Jessie was a fantasy and the fantasy made me weak, irrational. Much like when Lori died. Hell, much like when she was alive too."

"Michonne was never on your mind?"

Another chuckle from Rick. "She was always on my mind. I just didn't realize it. I use to look at her ass more time than I want to admit. I use to watch her sleep, study her face. I had to know where she was at all times. I sought her out whenever I was in doubt. I listened to her every time she made a suggestion. I loved to watch her with Carl and Judith."

Rick reached over and grabbed a bottle of water and drained it. "Michonne and I, we became a family first then realized we were in love. I'd never been with a woman who was my friend, a true partner." Rick laughed again. "Shit. She had to literally knock me over the head before I began to admit what I felt for her to myself. I was just so unsure of what she felt for me."

Daryl felt a bit of jealousy for Rick and Michonne. He and Harley didn't have that. Not yet. He didn't doubt the realness of their relationship, but it would have been nice if they had met sooner, got to know each other as part of a group then fall in love. She would have already known how dark he could get. She would have already seen his ruthless nature, the amount of force and coldness he used when dealing with those he decided had to die.

"She doesn't know," Daryl almost whispered. "Harley doesn't know how far I'd go to protect my own. She doesn't know that I've slit the throats of men, stabbed them, shot them, beat them."

"How do you think she'll feel?"

Daryl shrugged. "I don't know." He looked at Rick. "I found that man who touched her. That Savior. I cut his stomach open. I don't know if I should tell her."

"Tell her. You don't want to be afraid to be honest with the person you're going to be in this world with. It doesn't work. One way or another it will break you."

Rick was right. So far he and Harley had been honest with each other. Except he had left out the details of things in an effort to not scare her, but he needed to let her know the truth. If they stayed together eventually she would witness him in action.

He feared her reaction. He feared her looking at him with disappointment or worse, with fear and disgust. He feared she would no longer think of him as a good man.

"Did she see you when you came back?" Rick's voice broke through his thoughts.

"She washed the blood off me."

"Harley doesn't strike me as a naive woman. She knows. She understands the fighting doesn't only involve bullets or arrows. They involve knives and fists and hands around throats. What was frowned upon before is now a way of life. She knows this. If she lived alone for over a year, she may know this better than most."

Daryl lit another cigarette, his mind spinning a web of thoughts too numerous to identify. His past, his present and his future, all worrisome thoughts that swirled around in him. Anger, want, fear, uncertainty. These emotions ate away at him. He had a yearning for something unnamed within him.

Rest. He just needed to rest a while. Get back to some form of normalcy. Quell his raging mind. Sort out all that was going on his head. He looked forward to being in Harley's arms. To feel her wash him again, soothe his muscles with her skilled hands. She would help him rest and then he would expose more of himself to her and hope that yet again, she would understand and show him comfort.

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you all for reading. I may not post next week, things are getting busy. We'll see.**


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16 -

 **A/N: Sorry I missed last week. I was having a lot of problems with this and the next chapter and it ends up changing a lot of other chapters I wrote so I'm a bit behind. Enjoy.**

* * *

Negan walked into the cell, standing tall and proud like a righteous prisoner of war, not the defeated tyrant he was. He turned to face them, scowling, still wet from being hosed off, only in a new pair boxer shorts. He had refused the clothes they provided for him, insisting he would wait for his clothes to be cleaned. Scars and old bullet wounds dotted his lean, muscular frame.

"So what happens next Rick," Negan asked, sitting down on the cot in the cell. "Do I get a trial?"

"No," Rick said as Daryl eyed their prisoner.

"No due fucking process," Negan protested. "This is still America ain't it?"

"No. America doesn't exist anymore. You're at Alexandria now. For the next six days at any rate. On the seventh, we hang you before anyone who cares to see your sorry ass go."

Negan snorted. "You think this ends it? You think hanging me makes you safe? You're dumber than shit if you fucking think that. There is no end to this. There's another just like me heading your way or waiting to be born in your dream society."

"Shut the fuck up man," Daryl spat at him. Negan was a grade A shit talker. Always trying to wiggle his way into someone's head. He may have been acting stoic now, but he wasn't so high and mighty as he lay in his own urine while hog tied on the floor at the back of the bus. His eyes weren't so steely when the crowd gathered around him as Rick and Daryl took him to be washed. His stance wasn't so proud when they stripped him of his clothes and sprayed him with water and handed him the soap and told him to clean himself while others stood watch, their guns aimed at him.

Negan scowled at Daryl. "You're Daryl right?" Negan stood and walked to the bars. "Yeah, you were the one that little lady kept saying was gonna come and save her."

Daryl's heart rate began to increase as he let his hair fall on his face, hoping to hide any reaction he had.

"Oh yeah," Negan continued. "She was so sure of it too. You were coming to rescue her from us. 'He's looking for me now' she said. You were going to kill us all." Negan laughed.

"We gone kill you now," Daryl said evenly, fighting the urge to scream and pull Negan through the bars.

"Yeah, but I killed her first, didn't I? Cracked her fucking skull open while all you did was kneel."

Negan kept talking but all was silent in Daryl's mind. He watched Negan's mouth moving,

a cocky smile curling the edges of Negan's mouth. Daryl reached through the bars of the cell and grabbed Negan behind the head. He could feel the wet hair dripping beads of water on his hands. As hard as he could he pulled Negans face into the bars, making the bars rattle and reverberate from the force. Negan dropped, his nose gushing blood.

Daryl turned and walked from the room. Carol's face, wet with tears and painted with fright, stood clear in his mind. The words Negan said rang true in his ear. He had failed her. He had let her die. He stood by submissive and watched as Carol's skull broke open, her blood spilled from her head, her eye popped out it's socket.

A scream lodged itself in his throat and the same madness that had sent him out to the fields swirled inside him. He needed to get away, get out of the complete guilt he felt. The blame he knew was his. He had to escape the knowing that Carol had believed in him, the knowing that she was sure he would come and rescue her.

He had nowhere to go. No way to get there. The road in front of the gate was blocked by the delivery truck and Rick had the keys. Daryl tried to steady himself, taking deep breaths while his eyes were closed. Burning tears welled up behind his lids and slid silently down his face.

He walked to the townhouse, slow and steady, trying to hold onto his emotions. He gripped tight to the door handle and turned it, twisting it as far as it could go, having a sudden need to twist the metal all the way around and shifting his anger to the fact that he didn't have the strength to wring the knob free. Daryl began to slam the door repeatedly into the wall until the glass at the top of the door shattered and Harley came running bleary eyed down the stairs.

Daryl slammed the door shut behind him and marched to the dining room, picking up a chair and hurling it into the living room, cracking the screen of the large television. Huffing in his unabated rage he flipped the dining table over and picked up another chair and threw it into the kitchen, cracking a leg on a cupboard. He picked the dining table up by the leg and lifted it up before slamming it down again against the floor.

He spun around, wanting to find something else to smash and spotted Harley. She sat on the stairs, her face pressed between the bars of the railing, crying quietly as she watched him. Neither spoke. What could he say to her about his outburst? Now he had shame to go along with his guilt, anger and pain. All cobbled together into an invisible chain that pulled down on his soul.

Harley stood up and walked back upstairs. He heard the door to the bedroom click close. Surveying his damage, he began to pick up the glass by the front door before turning the table upright and placing the chairs back under it. The chair in the kitchen had a broken leg that he would have to repair. The one in the living room was intact, much to his surprise, but the television was beyond repair. When he was done he sat on the steps and cried.

* * *

Harley sat with her back against the door of the bedroom. She had been there so long that her legs were starting to cramp. Her tears were dried and left a sticky trail down her face. The sound of Daryl crying below had ceased. She was too angry to think of finding out what brought on his destructive rage. Watching him smash the furniture, growling like an animal, the madness in his eyes, she realised she had no real idea what he was capable of. She wondered if he would resort to smashing her around.

The clock on the nightstand read eleven. She stood and went to wash her face before getting dressed. She clipped her quiver to her pants and grabbed her bow and slowly opened the door, not wanting to face him. Not knowing what to say to him. Unsure if she would spew hatred his way or sympathy.

Daryl sat on the steps near the bottom, chewing his thumb, his leg stretched out, staring at nothing. He didn't look up at her until she stood on the step above him. He looked so pitiful and lost down there, looking up at her, eyes sad, biting on his bottom lip. He sat upright to allow her to pass and as she did he grabbed her arm.

"Don't go," he whispered out.

"I'm on watch. I have to go." Trying to make another step down, he held tight to her arm.

Her mouth tightened when she looked at him. He was so like a child at that moment. He seemed so afraid and so lost. She didn't want to soften though. There was enough rage and roughness outside her door. She couldn't live with it in her home.

"Would you hit me?" She sat down next to him. "If you got mad enough, would you strike me?"

Fresh tears pooled in his eyes and he looked at her, "never." He wiped at his eyes and took a deep breath. "Did I scare you? Do I scare you?"

"You did. I know violence has become a way of life for us, but I don't want to live with it in my home. In our home. I'm here for you Daryl. You can talk to me, tell me just about anything. I'll listen, help you figure it out. I'll run this compound with you if it helps you let off steam. But I won't watch you rage out and destroy the first thing you get your hands on because soon it'll be me."

He didn't say anything. He only put his head down and rubbed the back of his neck.

"I love you Daryl but I won't live like that. This is our home. Our home Daryl. Curse, scream, rail into the wind but don't destroy our home. Where we escape the madness of this world. No matter where we lay our heads you can't destroy it."

Daryl nodded as he reached out to stroke her face. "I let Negan get to me. I let him get in my head, fill it with shit I didn't need to know, didn't need to hear." He swallowed and moved closer to her. "He's here right now, in between us, pushing us apart."

Harley stood and reached down for his hand. "I'm walking the compound. Come walk with me. You need something to rest your mind."

Daryl stood and went with her. As she opened the door she turned to him, pointing to the open space where the glass was, "fix that," she said sternly. He cast his eyes down and nodded. She lifted his face up by the chin, and tiptoed to give him a soft kiss before grabbing him into a tight embrace, pressing her head against his chest.

"I love you Harley." He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her into a kiss kiss, deep, full of need. "Tell me you love me."

"I love you," Harley breathed out, grabbing him close to her. "I love you," she said into his mouth, grabbing his hand and placing it on her waist. She needed him to be her safe place, where she could forget the world outside. It was the fantasy world, the cocoon they lived in behind those doors, that kept her together.

Daryl started undoing her pants as he kicked the door shut. "Be a little late baby," he sucked on her neck and pushed her pants down. He went to his knees and took off Harley's boots and removed her pants completely along with her panties. He rubbed his hand along her slick folds and kissed her clit.

"A little late," Harley warbled out as she succumbed to the pleasure of his tongue on her. Rising, he kissed her gently and unzipped his pants, slowly pulling himself free. He lifted her up and as she wrapped her legs around him, he lowered her onto his erection, giving her a sweet sensation of being stretched open and invaded.

They looked into each other's eyes as he slowly lifted her off his cock before allowing her to fall back on it again. She stroked his face, his neck and shoulders. His fingers dug into the flesh of her backside as she watched his mouth tighten as his moans came out in short bursts as he tried to hold them back.

Daryl moved her against the wall and held her there while he thrust up in her, faster, breathing heavily into her neck. Putting her hands under his shirt her fingers grabbed his back and pulled red lines in his skin as she dragged them up towards his neck, getting lost in his pleasurable manipulations of her body. Closing her eyes she enjoyed, yet again, the way he stroked her.

"You feel," he panted before letting out a long hiss, "delicious. I could do this all night."

She groaned her agreement and and held tighter to him as he walked with her to the living room and laid her on the arm chair. He pulled off her shirt and bra and spread her legs wide, looking admirably at her pink wet opening surrounding by the dark flesh of her lips. He pushed her legs back and slowly got deep inside her and she cried out her pleasure.

"Make me come Daryl," she grabbed his ass pulling him deeper into her. "Ohhhhhhhh, make me come."

That was what he planned to do. He deepened his thrust, escaping the words of Negan inside her, the hot wetness gripping him tightly in pleasure. His thumb flicked against her clit and he reveled in the sound of her mewling approval.

Her pussy pulsed around him and he moaned. "That's it baby, come all over me." Her legs wrapped around his neck as he quickened his pace and pushed her legs back by leaning forward towards her.

Harley felt the first wave of her orgasm wash over her, then a second, then a third. Her voice was caught in her throat and all she was able to let out was a strangled cry. Her body convulsed and twitched with the last push of her climax flowing out of her.

"Did you come?" Daryl asked, slowing his movement.

"Three times."

A smile crossed his face as he pulled out of her and spilled his seed on her belly with a deep sigh. He pulled off his shirt and wiped her stomach clean with it. "Three times huh?" Harley nodded, amused at how proud he looked. "You still sore with me?"

"No. But I meant what I said."

"Yeah. I wouldn't like it if you came home and started destroying the place either, I guess."

Harley sat forward and kissed him. Grateful that he understood. Grateful that she now felt her fears were unfounded. He was the man she thought he was, she wasn't wrong about that. He just needed to learn a new way to deal with his anger, hurt and pain.

"I really need to get going," she started pulling her clothes back on, standing to get her pants and shoes.

"What if I go tell them you're not coming?" He was behind her as she wiggled into her pants

"No Daryl. You wouldn't squirm out of your responsibility."

"To spend the night between your legs? Hell yeah I would." He tried to stop her from pulling her pants all the way up by pushing his hand between her legs. "Just one more time," he breathed into her ear, bending her forward towards the wall.

Harley bit her lip with the internal conflict. Getting her resolve she straightened up and removed his hand. "No." She turned and kissed him, his face awash with disappointment. "Grab a clean shirt and meet me by the wall."

* * *

The tents of the other groups once again lined the area around the lake. There were a few lanterns burning but the majority slept soundly. Harley and Daryl had circled the compound four times in silence before he said anything. He began with the outposts, telling her how he found and killed the man who grabbed her. Letting her know the details of his brutal slaying and watched her face for her reaction.

Harley was surprised how indifferent she felt. She thought of the blood she had washed off him and hoped it belonged to that man. Men like that didn't deserve mercy or pity.

"I killed Dwight too," he told her. "Shot him through the eye after he begged us to take him because I told his men he betrayed them. Dwight couldn't be trusted. He's proven too many times that he's for sale. He only looks out for himself."

He wanted to justify it, wanted to soften the cruelty of his actions, thinking somehow that would lessen any fear of him she might have.

"Did you enjoy it?" She had stopped him as they walked at the back of the compound.

"I thought it was the right thing to do. But it didn't make me happy." He paused a moment. "It didn't make me sad either."

"Do you want to keep killing?"

"No. I'm fucking sick of it."

Harley nodded. "That's good. That's what separates us from the truly fucked up people now. Not if we kill, but if we enjoy killing."

"Even if we cut their stomachs open?"

"I think, even then. Sometimes emotions get the best of us and we get wild and commit brutal acts but I don't think that means we're horrible or unredeemable people. If the world came back tomorrow, I think a lot of us would function fine within it." She grabbed his hands in hers. "I'm glad you killed that man. Glad he died hard and not easy. Does that make me scary? Bad? I've killed too. I killed three men who came here to raid us. I watched Michonne take a man's head off and saw Dragon calmly shovel a man's torn body into a blanket. I kicked dead bodies into a hole like they were garbage. It's like you said. We have to be hard but in our hardness we don't deliberately set out to hurt people. We're the good guys Daryl. You're a good guy."

They started walking again, passing the three men at the front of the wall without pausing. Rick had pulled Michonne off guard duty tonight. He looked down at Harley wishing she would have done the same as Michonne. Right now all he wanted to do was get lost in pleasure, thinking of nothing more than what position he wanted her in.

"You wanna tell me what set you off today? What Negan said to you?"

"No. Not today. I don't want to think about it right now."

She nodded. She wasn't going to push. At any rate his other revelations were enough for her at the moment. "What happens next? Here?"

"Next these folks go home," he nodded at the tents, "and we work out how we want to expand Alexandria. Figure out what we can do and what we need help with. After we deal with Negan, the leaders will come together and work out trade and other things. Then we get to work."

He stepped towards her and stroked the silky skin of her neck. "What do you want for the future?" he asked. He knew what he wanted. He had decided on the ride back with Rick. All the details weren't clear but the desire was there. Did her wants match his?

Harley shook her head. "I don't...I never really thought about it."

He nodded, disappointed. "Come on," he said, taking her hand and dragging her through the field towards the houses.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

He walked her to the house that use to be Jessie and Pete's. Harley stared puzzled at the two story house with the red door and wrap around porch. Daryl led her up the steps of the porch and opened the door, flicking the switch on the wall by the door. They stood in the living room furnished with a plush three piece living room set. A flat screen TV sat above the fireplace and a tall bookshelf stood to the right of it, empty. The living room led to an open kitchen, well appointed like their own but much larger and to the right of that was a small dining room surrounded by windows and french doors that opened onto the porch.

Abstract art pieces hung on the wall. Not her taste, but not bad. She looked at Daryl confused. "What's this?"

He smiled and leaned against the wall. "This is what I want for my future. Our future." He almost laughed when her eyes widened. "I want a family Harley. I think I always did but didn't think I would. Eric's right. This is a good home for that."

Harley's heart began to race in her chest. She hadn't thought that far ahead. She saw herself with him, undoubtedly. But family implied children.

"Don't say anything," he told her, unable to read anything in her expression beyond shock. "Take a look around."

They walked through the kitchen into the laundry room and beyond to the garage where Daryl said he could see making himself a workshop. They traveled to the second floor and looked at a bedroom that had a small twin bed, bookshelf and desk and chair. From there they walked to the attached bathroom with double sinks and in a room opposite the sink was a toilet and tub shower combo. The bathroom led to another bedroom much like the first except this one had bunk beds.

"Good for kids," he said, a slight smile on his face. Harley was still in the fog she had stepped into the moment he said he wanted a family. She suddenly felt impossibly old. Kids in this world? At forty?

They walked out the second bedroom and moved on to the third. This one was larger with a private bath. "How many?" She asked. Daryl turned to her confused. "Kids. How many?

He shrugged. "I don't know. A few." He moved closer to her, obviously happy at the thought she was considering the possibility.

"A few is...one?"

"A few is..."

"One?" she cut him off.

A hearty chuckle came from him. "A few is more than one but less than five."

A look of horror crossed her face. "Five kids?" She followed him out the room and into the small room across from the first one. This one was the smallest and had no closet. It was completely bare except for an empty bookcase that lined half the wall on the left side of the door.

"You could use this room to work on your project. We can get you a desk and other things. Set it up real nice for you."

"What if I can't have kids Daryl?"'

"Then we'll adopt or whatever they call it these days.

"And you'd be fine, not having your own children? Wouldn't you want someone who could give you that? One of the younger women'"

"No." He grabbed her in a hug. "I don't need children of my own. I'd like that but I don't need it. Shit, having you is more than I ever thought I'd ever have. If there's kids out there that need lovin' we can love 'em together. Besides, if you feed 'em long enough, they start to look like you."

Harley laughed.

"You don't have to answer me right away. I'm not looking to start all this tomorrow. I just want to let you know what I want for my future. Yes, I would like kids, but mostly, I want you."

All of his smiles were gone and she was left staring at a serious man stating plainly what he wanted, leaving nothing up for interpretation. She was still at a loss for words, trying to race through the whole idea of pledging her life to someone else, of raising children, of actually planning out a real future.

Understanding that what he told her may be a lot for someone to take in, Daryl didn't take her lack of enthusiasm to heart. He watched her face switch from shock, confusion, contemplation, and fear. He was more amused by it than worried.

They made their way back downstairs and entered the master bedroom whose door was to the left when you entered the front door. It was large with a king sized bed and simple furnishing.

"I saved the best for last," Daryl told her as he walked her into the bathroom. It was large, with double vanity sinks separated by a deep jacuzzi tub. Opposite stood a walk in shower. "It has multiple heads," he said of the shower. "Thought we could try it out."

Her mouth opened to begin her protest but he shushed her. "You're done for the night. We're gonna use that shower, make the bed up, and test out that mattress before falling asleep."

Smiling Harley said, "yes sir."

* * *

Daryl found a bottle of sunflower oil that was still good in the kitchen. He brought it back to the bathroom for Harley who said if there was one thing she never neglected in all her time it was her skin, which she said would turn dry without moisture. Who was he to argue with her? Her skin was soft and supple, a pleasure to touch. He would have run back to the townhouse to retrieve hers if there wasn't any in the house.

"How do you put this on?" he asked her as he walked through the bathroom door.

"I just put it in my hands and rub it on my body," Harley said, smiling that he was able to find something for her. "I need to wet my skin first though, it's better that way."

Daryl already had poured a bit in his hands and before she could walk back in the shower he rubbed it on her arm, making it glisten as the oil spread on it. "You don't need water, it spreads good enough." He was pouring more in his hands and moved to rub it on her back, liking the way her skin was shining. He moved her to stand before one of the sinks, wanting to watch her in the large mirror that hung over it.

"But it's gonna leave me greasy this way," Harley said as Daryl went to his knees and spread the oil on her legs.

"Uh-huh," Daryl mumbled, becoming aroused as he slicked her leg from ankle to thigh, running his hand in a swirling motion to the crease between her leg. He did the same with the other leg, lingering around her sex before standing up and kissing her lightly on the back of her neck, pouring more oil in his hand and rubbing it on her belly.

Harley watched him the mirror as he stared transfixed at his hands on her, rubbing them in circles on her stomach, moving to her waist and up her back to her shoulders and down the arm that he had yet to oil. She saw him drop back down and felt him rubbing the oil in better on her legs, taking his time around her thighs as he bit lightly at her ass cheeks, making her gasp.

He stood again, pouring more oil and began rubbing it on her breasts, watching as he made them shine, lifting them and running his hands under them as she rested against him, her nipples being teased as he ran them between two fingers. His erection pressed into her backside, his eyes intently watched himself fondle her as he breathed out a few ooohhhhs, pleased by the sight.

"Just making sure they're done right," he said, moving his lips to her neck, his eyes still watching in the mirror as he rolled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, pinching them hard enough to make her hiss out and moan.

Harley stroked her ass along his hard cock, slow, as moisture began to puddle at her opening. Daryl was impossibly hard as he bent her over and began to oil her round and prominent ass, making it glisten with the oil. He squeezed her cheeks with his fingers, spreading them and letting them come back together. Listening to her soft moans he placed his cock between her cheeks and pressed them against it, rubbing his rigid shaft up and down along the oil slick warmth and groaned in satisfaction. He looked back to their reflection and caught her watching him lustily as he pleasured himself with her ass.

Letting go of her ass he grabbed her breasts and she arched her back until her lips found his and they kissed, slow and wet, their tongues licking, their lips sucking, groaning and panting. One hand went between her legs and he rubbed her as she cried into his mouth and gyrated against him. Seeing her eyes were closed he watched in the mirror as they kissed, one hand squeezing her breasts while pinching at her nipples, the other out of sight between her legs. His dick throbbed painfully, wildly turned on watching himself with her, groaning loudly feeling the sticky wetness between her legs.

He broke free of her and placed one of her legs up on the counter of the sink and got down, placing his mouth around her pussy and licking her with long, hard strokes, listening to her groan out. He licked at her opening and sucked at her sweet juices, panting and lapping at her like a thirsty animal as she jerked against his face, breathing heavily and turning back, grabbing his hair in her hands. Her clit slipped passed his lips into his mouth and she let out a long "oooohhhhh," and he grabbed his cock, relieving a bit of the pressure in it, finding it wet with precum.

He felt wild, a monster unleashed as he licked passed her opening and upward between her cheeks, swirling his tongue around the tight opening of her ass. Harley let out a surprised gasp, her breath ragged as she enjoyed him. He shoved two fingers inside her and thrust away roughly. "Oh fuck," she shouted, pushing herself back on them. He leaned back and watched his fingers move rapidly in and out of her wet pussy, grabbing her ass hard with his other hand.

"I wanna fuck you Harley," he gasped out. "Let me fuck you baby."

"Yes," her voice was tight between her gasps.

He stood and grabbed her breasts and moved his hips until he was at her opening and pushed up into her, and began to slam himself in her, biting her shoulder as she gripped the edge of the vanity with one hand and pressed the palm of her other one against the mirror.

His roughness made her crazy with pleasure. It turned her on to have him possess her body like that as he thrust mercilessly into her. Usually she tried to never get too loud but at this moment she was shrieking and moaning loud enough for all of Alexandria to hear and not being able to begin to care.

He grabbed the back of her neck and pushed her down until she lay flat against the counter and he fucked her faster, his balls hitting against her clit, making her hiss between her cries. He held firm to her neck with one hand and squeezed her ass with his other. "Spank me," she commanded him as he grunted loudly. "Spank me." And she felt a sharp sting to her ass, drawing a moan of appreciation. Another one and her pussy quivered.

"You like that?" He was breathless. "You like me fucking you?" Another stinging smack.

"Yes. Don't stop." A low growl escaped her mouth as she became lost in the sensation of him taking her so roughly, his fingers digging into the flesh of her backside until he removed it to give her a smack that made her cry out. It was so intense, the pressure that was building in her, that it was almost painful. When he spread her cheeks apart, stretching her around his rock hard cock she crumbled. The orgasm shot out of her, hard and powerful, making her shake and cry out loud, almost a scream. He stopped moving inside her as she rocked out her release, rubbing her back as if to soothe her. Tears were in her eyes, the intense feeling rippling out of her in a long string of pleasure.

Wiping at her tears Daryl leaned down and kissed her face. "Did I hurt you?" his voice full of concern as he slid out of her.

Harley laughed weakly, "no." She stood and turned to him, kissing him lightly. "No. It was just that good." He didn't look convinced, even as she could still feel the ghost sensation of him inside her making her pussy jump and tingle with the sweet sensation. She sunk down to her knees before him and looked up at him, "I mean it. I loved it." She took him in her mouth and pulled him all the way in by his hips, hearing his sigh, controlling his movement in and out of her by pulling and pushing his hips, closing her eyes and moaning around him. She let go of him, looked up at him with her doe eyes and held her mouth open, her tongue hanging slightly out her mouth and he began to run his cock along her tongue with audible appreciation. Gentle and slow. His face was slack with pleasure, hissing every time he pushed down her throat.

Daryl started biting the inside of his cheeks as he watched himself slide down her tongue, almost in pain as he held off from coming. He knew this image was one he never wanted to forget. For this alone he would marry her, as base as it was. He was, after all, just a man. And right now he was a man in an erotic fantasy as she allowed him to fuck her face, looking up at him with her large eyes, moaning when he reached the back of her throat.

Unable to hold back any longer he held her around her chin, went to the back of her throat and came with great satisfaction, holding himself there until all of him spilled out. He shuddered as her lips gripped him and pulled back along his cock to the tip and he hissed as her tongue circled his head, getting any remnants of cum left there. Pulling free of her he stood her up and kissed her deeply, wrapping her in his arms.

Smiling into his mouth, she mumbled, "I love you too Daryl."

* * *

"Do you prefer it that way?"

They were laying in the large bed with the firm mattress. All the windows in the dark room were open allowing fresh air in. That was one thing they both agreed on. They liked every window open so as not to feel like they were trapped.

"I like it, but I don't prefer it," Harley snuggled closer to him. "I prefer it slow and sweet. What about you?"

"I guess I'm boring because I like to be on top, looking down at you."

"So we won't be doing that again?" She smiled, knowing he had enjoyed it as much as she had.

Nuzzling his face in her neck he said, "oh, we're gonna do that again. Just not a lot." He started rubbing her stomach, now wishing he had come inside the warm space between her legs instead of her mouth. Now that his mind had latched onto the idea of family, he began to imagine what it would be like to get her pregnant.

"So, you want this house? You like it?"

"Yes and yes," she said. "I'm also thinking of the idea of family. I can definitely say spending all of my days with you sounds pretty nice."

The smile spread sudden and broad across Daryl's face. "I like the sound of that. Harley Dixon has a nice ring to it."

"So does Daryl Glinton," she countered turning to him with a smile, pushing her face forward to kiss him.

His hand ran to her stomach as they kissed. She hadn't said anything about that. He got chills thinking of his seed filling her with life and found himself aroused at the idea. "Have my baby Harley," he moaned at the thought.

"I don't know if I can. It's been almost three years since my last period." She also wasn't too sold on the idea of bringing life into this world. Alexandria might be safe for now, but how long would that last?

Still circling his palm against her stomach, feeling the extreme thinness, the feel of her ribs, he knew exactly what the problem was. "We just gone have to fatten you up." He cupped her ass in his hands and pulled her to him, bringing her leg over his hips and resting his semi erect penis between her legs. He brought his mouth to her ear, "then I'll fatten you up." He moaned.

"You'd like that huh?" He nodded at her. "You like your women big?"

"Nothing wrong with a little meat on your bones." His lips ran along her chest. "More for me to love."

"You'll have to give me more time to think about that." The pressure on her chest was released as he pulled away from her. Even in the dark of the room she knew his face had fallen. He seemed really taken with the idea of her having a baby, his baby. "I'm not saying no Daryl. I'm just saying, give me more time."

"But you could say no," the disappointment engulfed him.

"I could," she told him, hating to hurt him but needing to be honest with him.

"You never wanted kids?"

"I did, at one point, but after my last relationship..."

"I'm not that guy," he cut her off. "I'm not gonna cheat on you, mistreat you. I'm gonna be here." He rolled away from her. "I can take if you can't have a baby Harley, but I don't know about if you won't have one."

His words stung. Suddenly it went from her decision to an ultimatum. Want a baby or else. "You wouldn't love me anymore if I didn't want a baby?"

Daryl faltered. At this moment, yes. He had grasped on the thought and was not sure he could let it go. However, he also knew it took him over forty years to find someone he who made him dream of being father, and while he supposed he could simply go out and knock someone up, he wasn't so sure he'd find someone who he'd want to raise that child with.

Needle sharp pain hit her and a lump formed in her throat. Why wouldn't he answer her? Did he not want to admit that her womb and her willingness to have life it was a factor in his love for her? "Answer me." Her voice was barely above a whisper. Her heart rate sped up as she waited for seemed like an eternity.

"I don't know," he whispered out.

She removed herself from him and turned her back to him on the other side of the bed. It was suddenly cold on in the area she had just been. He wanted to reach out to her but thought better of it. He tried to tell her that he would love her no matter what but felt that wouldn't be true. All he had was a confusion as to why this was suddenly so important but it was and he was unsure of what that meant for him, for them.

Harley got up and went to the bathroom. Moments later she came out fully dressed, the sound of her shoes echoing off the wood floor. She didn't pause as she went to the bedroom door.

"Where you going?" he asked, sitting up.

"To the townhouse." The cracking of her voice told him she was crying.

"Don't go Harley. Let's talk about this."

She opened the door and stepped through, "I don't want to talk anymore," and she exited.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Sorry for the delay, this chapter was giving me so much trouble. I literally have five different versions of it. It is currently almost 1:00 am here in Switzerland but I had to get this posted. Hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think.**

* * *

Chapter 17 -

The morning after she had walked out on Daryl Harley woke up angry, Daryl's words fresh in her mind. She needed to get out, get away from the walls of Alexandria, not think about what happened, not ponder what her next move would be.

She enlisted the help of Jerome and Thomas in mapping out the area around Alexandria. They couldn't expand without a clear idea of what was around them and what they were expanding into.

For the briefest of moments she had thought about leaving but she wasn't going anywhere. A few weeks at Alexandria and she knew she could never go back out there, sleeping in the woods or rundown houses, scavenging for food, always on high alert. She was an Alexandrian now and she wanted to make sure it held together against any threats for years to come.

Carl joined in on their jaunt as they explored the area south of Alexandria. Together they would enter houses and buildings, inspecting how damaged they were, if they had material that could be salvaged, and spoke about what they envisioned for the expansion. The houses closest to Alexandria were in the best shape. The further away they got, the more deteriorated they were and most would have to be torn down.

While Jerome and Thomas sketched out maps and made drawings of buildings, Harley took notes on houses and made crude floor plans of the ones that were still sturdy.

They didn't have many run ins with the dead, only a few which were quickly dispatched by everyone. Harley was a bit too enthusiastic as she split rotting skulls in half, letting her frustration out with each blow.

As they walked she felt Carl looking her way. She looked down at him. "What?

"You okay?"

"Fine." She would be fine, regardless if Daryl decided come back or not. But right now she was angry and she was going to spend her anger

He stopped her forward motion by placing his hand on her arm. "You savaged that walker back there and you've been scowling all day. What's up?"

"I'm having a shit day. I thought coming out here would take my mind off things but I guess I'm still pretty fucking pissed off."

"Do you wanna talk about it?" His young face, hardened by horror, looked earnestly at her.

Harley couldn't help but smile. "No. But thanks." She started walking again, Carl next to her. "You have a girlfriend?"

Carl gave an awkward smile and shook his head. "There was a girl, Enid. She went to the Hilltop with Glenn and Maggie. We kissed and stuff, but it's kinda hard to keep it going with no telephones, internet or even mail."

"Yeah, that's rough. I will tell you one thing though, woman to man," she looked over at Carl, at his youthful face. "Young man. Words matter. Think very carefully about what you say to someone you love or like or whatever 'cause words can cut deep."

"Okay," Carl said slowly. "You have any other advice for me?"

Harley laughed. "I have tons. But you're too young and I'm too embarrassed." She watched Carl's face flush a deep crimson. "Looks like you'd be embarrassed too."

They continued on slowly, keeping an eye out for Jerome and Thomas as they crudely measured the area and consulted their own maps.

"You know," Carl began, "Daryl shoots off at the mouth but he just doesn't know any other way." They boy looked at her soberly. "He's a good guy. But I guess you're right, words do matter, even if you don't mean them when you say them."

Harley smiled and patted the boy on his shoulder. "You are wise beyond your years young Carl. Maybe you should have a talk with him."

The southern area ran into dense woods that ended at roadway. Jerome suggested ending the southern wall at the woods and cutting down all the trees to give a large line of site against any invaders.

They sat under one of the trees to eat lunch. After eating Harley jumped up and grabbed on the tree branches and pulled herself up. She hadn't been in a tree since she met Daryl. The guys below looked up silently at her as she climbed almost to the top and looked out over the wide expanse of the woods and felt the cool breeze filtering through the leaves hitting her skin.

She thought about watching Daryl cry underneath her not all that long ago, listening to him scream out his pain, pulling him off the ground. All their time together spun through her head ending up with him telling her he wanted children at the end of the world and it was a condition of his love for her.

* * *

Daryl woke up sweating in the hot afternoon. He rolled over and reached for Harley only to find an empty space where she should be. He sat up and remembered she had left the night before, hurt by his overreaction to her not being able to give him a definite answer to a very serious question. One that required more thought than he had allowed. She had left because he couldn't tell her that he would love her if he she didn't want to get pregnant.

He went to the porch of the house and sat with his back against the wall, smoking, looking at times at the townhouse, wondering if Harley would emerge from the front door.

Daryl looked up when when he heard Rick's footsteps ascend the steps of the porch. Rick sat on the railing opposite him. "What you doing here?"

"House shopping. Was thinking of taking it."

Rick nodded. "Getting ready to start that family of yours?"

Daryl snorted. "Not right now." He leaned his head against the side of the house. "She's not sure she wants kids."

"Well, it's a big decision. At any time, but bigger in this time." Rick stared down at him. "How you feel about that?"

Daryl fumbled for another smoke and lit it with the butt of his old one. "I think...I think we broke up."

Rick moved off the rail and sat next to Daryl. "Sorry to hear that. Saw her earlier and had no clue."

"She's up already?"

"Up and out. Her and Carl took those two guys to map out the area, get a look at how things look around here. She also offered to search the library for useful books for us."

Daryl flicked his eyes one more time at the townhouse before nodding his head. "It's my fault. Told her I couldn't be with her if she wouldn't have my kid."

"And you mean that? Rick sighed. "You're not really a man of many women if you know what I mean."

"You think I can't find anyone else?"

"I...," Rick stopped and shook his head.

"What?"

"I just think you're going too fast. Only yesterday you mentioned this and now today you break up with your woman, who you fell in love with after how many years of never of being in love, never showing any interest in anyone? And now you're talking about finding someone else to make a family with? In less that twenty-four hours you've decided all this and made all these changes? I just don't know man."

Daryl only glared at him, not wanting to hear how stupid he was for last night. He already felt it. She wasn't opposed to children and she was willing to take in one with him. That wasn't a far fetched goal. At the prison there were a lot of children who had lost parents that were being raised by others.

"I thought you didn't like her," Daryl said.

"I like her fine. I just didn't trust her at first but I've been proven wrong. I'm still curious how you met though, if I'm honest."

"You really wanna know?"

Rick nodded.

"All those nights I use to take off, I use to go to this field and let off steam and drink. Harley was there."

"You would talk things out or something?"

"Naw. During the summers Harley would spend the nights in trees. Strap herself to 'em and rest. She watched me. Saw me at my worst moments but never did nothing. One night I got drunk and decided to give up. Told myself I would let whatever wanted me to have me. Just didn't give a fuck."

Rick stared but said nothing.

"Anyway, this herd was coming through and she came down and picked my ass up and carried me to this apartment for the night. Fed me, watched me cry, kept watch all night while I slept." Daryl shrugged. "The rest is history as they say."

"Aw, that's sweet," Rick said.

"Shut up man."

"So she saved you?" Daryl nodded and Rick began to softly sing "I will be your hero baby."

"You're such a fucking dick."

Rick laughed and put his hands up, "okay, okay, I stop. Look, it's not my place to tell you what you should and shouldn't want. Just keep it civil and don't chase her away. I have a feeling she can help us a lot. Hell, she's already helping with the future planning. I guess someone else will come along and give you what you want."

Rick didn't sound like he believed that last part. Daryl didn't believe it either. "Fuck," Daryl said in frustration. "I really fucked up."

"Was it Negan? Listen, what he said..."

"I know man," Daryl ran his hands over his face, sighing. "It's everything I guess. I see the possibility for good things and I wanted it all now and got so angry that she wouldn't give it to me right then and there."

"You ungrateful asshole," Rick said to him slowly. "This isn't enough? You have to have more? Right now?" Daryl stared shocked. Rick looked legitimately pissed at him. "We already have so much more than many. Not just because we're alive, but also how we live and who we live with. I don't want to see you spiral because you put all your hopes in one scenario. Your relationship is new, enjoy what you have now."

"Fuck," Daryl said again.

"Come on, I need your help to build the gallows. One of that group from near the outpost, Lionel, is a carpenter. Said he'd help us."

Daryl nodded. "Let me get my shoes."

* * *

They worked all afternoon on the gallows. It was a simple contraption. A pole with a perpendicular bar to hold the rope and a base in an X formation that would have to be weighed down with something. Lionel had also made a stool for Negan to stand on that would be yanked from beneath his feet.

Lionel was a large dark skinned man with a bald head that shone in the sunlight. He came with notes and crude drawings of his plans. His deep voice came softly from his mouth when he spoke. A by the books man who measured twice and cut once. He worked skillfully with the machines, showing his craftsman's ability. It was nothing like the haphazard way Daryl liked to build. Working with Lionel forced Daryl to take his time and patiently work the pieces together.

When they were done with the gallows both Lionel and Rick hung from the bar that was to hold the rope to make sure it could withstand the weight of Negan while Daryl stood on the base. Lionel said he would work on a counter weight to hang on the other side of the bar and have it ready the next day.

It was grim work if Daryl was honest. He never imagined he would plan an execution of a man so methodically. Had he not had such a knee jerk reaction to Harley, he would have gone to her and talked about it, but instead he just sat smoking on the porch, dreading going in the big house that was so empty and not as nice with only him.

He watched the gate closely as the sky turned orange in the evening sun, waiting for Harley to walk through so he could run to her, apologize, beg her forgiveness.

Abraham came out the house next door and sat down on one of the large rattan chairs on his porch, lighting a cigar. "Howdy neighbor," he called to Daryl.

"How's your leg doin'?"

"Fucking hurts but I'll live. Turns out the bullet went straight through. Lucky fucking me." Abraham snorted and puffed a large cloud of smoke from his cigar.

Daryl nodded and turned his head when he heard the gate open. Harley and Carl walked through first. Behind them came Jerome and Thomas. Harley gave Carl's shoulder a squeeze and he took off running for home as she began to walk with the other men.

He started to walk off his porch when she turned to him and said something to the other men before heading his way. He chewed on his thumb as she approached, nervous, his palms sweating.

"Hey," she said as she approached.

"Hey. Can we talk?"

"Um," she looked around. "I still got some work to do but yeah, for a moment."

He headed back on to the porch and opened the front door. Harley hesitated. Daryl was about to say something but bit his tongue and closed the door again and leaned against the railing and watched as she went to stand across from him, her back pressed into the side of the house.

He cleared his throat, not knowing where to start. "I'm sorry." She shifted and continued to stare blankly at him. "I shouldn't of done what I did last night. It was wrong."

She made no attempt to speak, only sucked her cheeks in.

"I...I don't know what else to say."

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Okay Daryl." She pushed herself off the wall and made her way to the stairs.

He grabbed her arm, " don't be like that." Harley yanked her arm away. "So that's it then. You done? You gone just walk off and that'll be it?"

She simply stared, her dark eyes burrowing into him, her jaw tense.

"Harley I love you. I know for a fact that I love you more than any man you've ever been with." He gave a short laugh, "I guess that's not really saying much though is it?"

She glared at him, her eyes forming into tight slits. "You need to take your time and think long and hard about what it is you really want Daryl. I can't have you giving and taking away your love based on a feeling you have on a whim. Yesterday you didn't know if you could love me, today you do, what happens tomorrow? I have enough shit to deal with, I'm not adding you to that list."

He hung his head, unable to answer.

"I need to know for certain that this relationship is as real for you as it is for me," she continued. He started to protest but she stopped him. "I need to know that big decisions like babies don't have to be made at a moments notice. That we can take our time to discuss things before you go throwing me away like I don't matter at all. I need you to really think about it and don't just ask me back because you don't want your bed to be cold tonight."

She left him then and headed back to the townhouses.

* * *

"Why are women so fucking difficult to talk to?" Daryl was sitting on Abraham's porch drinking a cold beer.

Abraham smiled and twirled his cigar between his fingers. "Woman are like crazy people." Abraham looked around cautiously. "You have to speak very carefully to them 'cause you never know what will set them off."

"Where's Sasha?"

Abraham looked around again, "Getting ready for her watch tonight."

"See, even your ass is jumpy, scared she'll catch you saying something."

Abraham laughed. "If that ain't some shit. Got me minding my P's and Q's." Abraham drained his beer. He looked over at Daryl. "So you guys are done huh?"

Daryl merely shrugged.

Abraham stared awhile at him before turning his gaze back to the front. "Well, you do your part, she'll do hers."

"I did my part," Daryl protested.

"Did you? Then why'd she go?"

Daryl took another swig of his beer, "said some stupid shit."

"Yeah, talking reckless is never a good thing" Abraham smiled and puffed on his cigar. He stood up, "gonna get more beer." As he reached the door Sasha was coming out. Daryl lit a cigarette as they kissed and whispered to each other.

"Don't let him drink too much," Sasha said to Daryl as she walked off the porch towards the guard tower.

"Now we can talk more freely," Abraham handed Daryl a beer and sat back down.

"I got a question for you. Why Sasha? Why not stick to Rosita? Ya'll been together long enough, been through enough."

Abraham signed deeply. "The difference between Rosita and Sasha is this; Rosita would follow me to the gates of hell, Sasha would slap my ass and ask me what the fuck I'm doing." He took a swallow of beer. "I first noticed Sasha in the train car at Terminus, when she kept asking Eugene about the cure. You know, when I met Eugene I was seconds away from blowing my brains out. His mission gave me something to live for. Never once thought about whether or not it sounded like complete bullshit."

Abraham relit his cigar and puffed on it a few times. "Men like us. Me, you and Rick, we need women like that. Who will put us in our place, call us out on our shit or we'd self destruct. Women like that don't let you put shit on their plate and call it dinner."

Abraham swirled his beer around in the bottle looking out to the gate. "I'm not saying anything's wrong with Rosita. She's a good woman, she's tough and kind. Sweet actually. But she's not what I need. I'm glad she found Ezekiel, he's a good man. Hope she makes it okay at the Kingdom, finds her place there." He looked over at Daryl. "What she say to you anyway? Harley. What she tell you?"

"That I need to think long and hard about what I want and I can't be running hot and cold with her."

"Makes sense."

"Maybe I'm better off alone," Daryl lit another cigarette.

"Maybe. Guess that's what you gotta figure out."

"Being alone is easier."

"Is it? Not having someone there to talk to late at night? No one to comfort you and bring you back when you feel like you're teetering on the edge? No one to love you? Smile at you when you walk through the door? Envision a future with?" He shrugged. "I guess for some, they don't need all that. I sure as fuck do."

 _Me too_ , Daryl thought drinking the rest of his beer down.

* * *

Harley, Jerome and Thomas traveled west of the gate the next morning. They crossed the road into the large field before heading into the woods. The sun had only just begun to rise and it was dark under the canopy of leaves. Jerome and Thomas didn't want to push too far into the woods, stating the field was large enough for their needs, they just wanted to explore it a bit, see how much space it took up while consulting their maps.

Around a hundred yards in was a large stream. Due to all the summer rain the stream was swollen and running quickly along the shoreline. All three of them stood in awe and almost simultaneously they removed their shoes, rolled their pants up and waded in. The water came up to her knees. She could feel the slick rocks and silt under her feet. Goose pimples formed as the water chilled her legs.

In the clear water small fish swam around her legs. Jerome picked up a few rocks and skipped them along the surface as Thomas stood sketching the scenery.

She could almost forget the turmoil brewing in her heart. Every few minutes a lump grew in her throat that she had to swallow as she walked with Jerome and Thomas. The only good thing was that they sensed something was wrong with her and didn't try to engage her unless it was absolutely necessarily.

She had told Daryl to take his time to figure out what he really wanted and she was afraid what he really wanted was to not be with her. She took a deep breath to quell the tears that wanted to fall. She had already cried enough for the day. She had cried this morning, she had cried as they walked, and she found herself crying now, silently, as she stood in the cool water of the river, feeling the silt squeeze between her toes. She scooped up the water and splashed her face, reveling in the beauty the world still held and becoming sad once more thinking of how Daryl would like a place like this.

Downstream one of the dead tried to cross to get to them. They stood watching as it waded in the water, making it's way towards the middle and heading upstream towards them. Its jaw hung loose from its face by a few pieces of muscle, its hand stretched out and it picked up speed in its need to have them. It took another step and disappeared under the water, bobbing up again and being pulled away from them by the current.

They headed east and mapped out the entire town area. She had quickly moved through the buildings that didn't look on the verge of collapse, taking out the dead that were trapped behind the glass windows including the bound woman Harley had seen on her first trip there. There was a good amount of supplies that could be salvaged from the stores but she didn't know about knocking down any buildings even though the brick that made up a lot of them would come in handy.

They took a breather in the library as Harley stacked books in the small roll cart she had borrowed from Carl. Anything on construction, farming, and natural energy were top priority. She would have to return later to get more but for now only the necessary ones would do.

Jerome and Thomas had already begun to draw the map on a sheet of construction paper from what they had explored the day before. Thomas was a surprisingly good artist and had rendered almost everything they saw in minute detail. They had labeled properties that were to remain intact and marked those to be torn down.

Back at Alexandria in the basement unit of Jerome and Thomas they completed the map and afterwards they placed tracing paper on top of their original map and rendered various ideas of where the borders of Alexandria can go and how to divide the areas for different uses.

She had grown to really respect the men as she worked with them, even learning to tolerate Thomas' strange, brittle sense of humour and quirks.

As they were discussing possible set ups for the community Thomas suddenly turned to her. "Are you an overly emotional woman?"

Harley didn't know how to answer his question, not quite sure what he meant. "What?"

"Do you usually cry all day like a stuck pig?"

"Didn't think you noticed my scrawny no titty having ass," Harley deadpanned garnering an appreciative snort from Jerome.

Thomas had a look of horror on his face as he stared dumbstruck at Harley.

"First time ever Thomas has had nothing to say." Jerome patted her on the shoulder. "But seriously. If you wanna talk...," he left the suggestion hanging.

Harley turned back to the map, "let's get back to this. I'd like to get home before the sun comes up."

* * *

Daryl had spent his day trying to concentrate on what he was suppose to be doing. In the early morning Sasha told him Harley, Jerome and Thomas had already headed out. He had wondered after her the entire time he and Lionel built rabbit traps and cages.

When they were done with those, Lionel helped Daryl build a porch swing. Lionel had left Daryl to sand the swing down and put it up himself. He had put a coat of paint on it before heading to the townhouse to fix the window. The townhouse felt foreign already, as if he truly were a stranger there. He stared at the cardboard in place of the glass and felt a rush of regret. The whole night had been a whirlwind. Rage, fear, love, confessions, surprises and a break up.

He went out into the nearby neighborhood to search for some glass and, if he was lucky, and new television, even though they never used it, one was supposed to be there so he would replace it. He had found both. There was a fairly well preserved house in the community behind Alexandria. He had seen the front door had a large mark on it in crayon and knew Carl and Harley had done it. Carl had told him and Rick all about what they had done the day before, obviously liking the fact that Harley listened to him and didn't treat him like a kid but a member of the community whose opinions she valued.

The front door of that house had a glass in it the same measurements as the one at the townhouse. He removed the moulding holding the glass in place and after lifting the glass out, went inside to see if it had a television which it did. He had brought both back to the community and stored them in his home until he could give them both to her.

He had put another coat of paint on the swing and in the dim light of the porch, he screwed in the bolts holding the chain to the rafters and was in the process of replacing the vinyl ceiling, keeping an eye out for light in the townhouse. He wondered if he would be able to entice Harley back with the promise of a porch swing and a vasectomy. He laughed at the thought.

"What's so funny?" Rick asked as he walked up the porch steps.

"Thinking stupid thoughts," Daryl said, stepping off the ladder.

"Well I'm here to bring you to dinner."

"I don't really feel like it. Thanks though."

Rick shook his head. "Nope. Wife says I gotta bring you back with me or I'm in serious trouble. We're cheering you up, so move your ass."

Daryl sat around the table, unhappy as he watched the Grimes family enjoy each other's company. Michonne poured him some whiskey while Rick served the meal and Carl sat playing with Judith who sat on his lap.

"This is making me feel worse," Daryl said as Rick placed Judith in her high chair.

"You'll get your family," Michonne said. "If not with Harley, then with someone else. The world is smaller but not that small."

Carl sat up, "you and Harley broke up?"

"We haven't...yes," Daryl conceded, deciding not to try to get technical with the people who knew him best.

"Because she doesn't want a family?" Carl asked.

"Because she doesn't want to get pregnant," Rick clarified. "Daryl is her family." Daryl didn't miss the intent behind Rick's words or the look he gave Daryl when he said it.

"No wonder she was so angry when we went out." Carl observed. "She told me I should have a talk with you. I would have too if I knew you were being a complete asshole:"

"Hey, watch your mouth kiddo," Rick admonished Carl.

Daryl saw the disapproving look Michonne gave him. "What?" he asked her. "Go on, say your piece."

Michonne took her time gathering her thoughts. "Not wanting to get pregnant is not the same as not wanting a family. Pregnancy can be dangerous, especially now. Deciding to bring new life in this world, even here at Alexandria, is not a decision to be made on a whim."

"You guys are trying for a baby," Carl said to her.

"Yes, but we talked at length about the pros and cons. The dangers, the hardships that will come along with it. Disease, death, having to survive outside these walls," Michonne paused. "Not everyone is willing to take those chances. If we happen to stumble across a child who, god forbid, lost their parents I doubt she would hesitate to take it in. Mother it like it was her own. She told you that. You haven't even been together that long. If you are confident enough in this place to bring a baby into it, then you can wait a while for all that. Why not wait another year before you start making those decisions? But to toss her aside because in one night she can't be certain..." Michonne stopped and shook her head. "I'm getting too emotional. I can't tell you how to feel or what to do. But I will tell you that I think you're a fucking asshole."

Daryl sat stunned. "Wow girl. Tell me what you really think."

Daryl looked around the table. Judith also seemed to want to give her piece, holding out her chubby hand in Daryl's direction, pointing at him and jabbering angrily his way. "You too kid. You got something to say to me?"

"If nothing else," Michonne reached over and grabbed his hand, her face now warm and soft. "Get your clothes. You're reverting back to not bathing. I'm gonna have to put covers over the furniture before I let you sit down."

"And that's a good excuse to go see her," Rick added.

Judith pointed again and angrily squealed at him before throwing her peas in his direction.

"Yes, Judith, I get it. I messed up."

* * *

Harley walked through her front door in the dark quiet of the early morning. She had worked all night on the maps and making notes. Something felt off in the townhouse but she couldn't place her finger on it. She grabbed her knife out its sheath and stepped slowly inside. As she crept up on the living room she saw a brand new television where the broken one had been. She immediately turned around and noticed the window was fixed in the door.

She closed and locked the front door. Daryl had been there, she even thought she could still smell the faint scent of cigarette smoke in the air. Taking her shoes off she headed upstairs. The room was dark and cool as she entered. Daryl sat on the end of the bed, a silhouette slumped over, head in hands.

He was freshly showered. The scent of soap clung in the air. Harley didn't move at first, she merely stood, looking at his dark form on the bed.

"I fixed the door," he said softly from the bed.

"I saw." Harley made her way to the bathroom, not knowing what else to do. She stepped into the shower and still Daryl waited in the dark room in only his pajama bottoms. He was still waiting when she came out the bathroom and watched as she dressed in a t-shirt and underwear.

Harley sat on the bed next to Daryl, the heat from the shower wafting off her skin.

"You back?" she asked him.

"I'm back," he replied hoarsely. He grabbed her hand in his and kissed her palm. "I'm hotheaded," he lifted her face to meet his. "I lose control sometimes, I get angry. And according to the Grimes family, I'm an asshole. A selfish, ungrateful fucking asshole. Even Judith called me an asshole."

Harley laughed. "The baby did not call you an asshole."

Daryl kissed her softly on her lips. "She did. She tried to disguise it with baby talk, but I heard her loud and clear."

Daryl sighed and rubbed Harley's hand. "I know this is bad to say, but this new world has given me more than it's taken away. I have friends who are good people, who do things, positive things. They respect me. Listen to what I have to say. I'm living in a nice house. I've got you."

Harley smiled and rested her head against his shoulder. He slid his fingers in her hair and rubbed her scalp. Her hair was soft and springy, he liked the feel of it and the way it tangled around his fingers.

"Maybe I got too greedy wanting more. Maybe I believe too much in this place and what we can have here. I just saw it so clear. A little me, someone I can be a real father to. Break the Dixon family curse."

"Just by being you you broke that curse. I'm not saying no. I'm not saying yes. I'm saying, give me time to really think about it."

"Rick says I need to take time to enjoy what I have now."

"He's a smart man."

Daryl nodded and looked at her, running his thumb along her cheekbone. "You're not my bed warmer Harley. And you're not my baby making machine. But you're a nurturer," he said, putting his forehead on hers. "You'd be a great mom, but I hear what you're saying and I can wait. We'll have kids Harley, biological or not."

Harley smiled, she felt the beginnings of tears in her eyes but blinked them away. She pushed her face forward and gave him a soft kiss on the lips.

"And I'mma think before I talk too and not smash shit when I'm mad," he chuckled. "That'll be a first for a Dixon."

"You're gonna make many first for the Dixons. Including rebuilding the world."

Daryl swelled with pride. It was true. He was now a founding father of whatever it was they were building there in Virginia, and whatever nation might grow from that would be because of what he and the rest of the Georgia group did.

He moved further up the bed and rested against the headboard, Harley joined him, laying her head on his thighs as he stroked her back.

"You're too good for me you know?" he told her.

"I know." She looked up at him and smiled. He had said all the right things to her and she believed every word. She knew he would struggle with his promises, but she didn't doubt he would try and keep trying until it was second nature.

"You're a good man Daryl. That's why you're here right now. I wouldn't go through this if I didn't think that."

"You make me a better man Harley." He slid down to lay facing her. "You're literally the love of my life. My one and only." He took a deep breath. He suddenly felt scared to admit this to her, even though she most likely knew. "I woke up that next day reaching for you. You are the first thing I want to touch, see, when I wake up. You are the one I want to see before I close my eyes for the night. I may be a redneck from butt fuck Georgia, but I'm not completely stupid. Giving you up would be the stupidest thing I could do."

He moved his mouth to hers slowly. He felt the give of her soft lips each time he pressed into her, lingering after every press to maintain the sensation. Soon he was grabbing her bottom lip in his, sucking it leisurely, mapping the texture of her mouth with his. He sighed contentedly when she kissed him back and moaned when her tongue flicked against his.

He pulled her shirt off and rolled on top of her and looked down at her, her eyes wide and soft. "I love you," he whispered before lowering his body on her, feeling the heat of her skin on his as he crushed her chest under him and rubbed against her, kissing her neck and caressing her shoulders.

"Say it again," Harley said as she wrapped her arms and legs around him, pulling him even closer.

"I love you. I love you." His face tucked into her neck, his hands continued to travel her body, he continued to rub his torso against hers. He had come so close to losing this, holding the person he loved, who loved him. He had meant what he told her, she was too good for him. He had always felt it, but he didn't care. She wanted him, she desired him, she loved him and he was going to take it all from her and never let it go.

* * *

 **A/N: Whew, glad I got that out. Hopefully I'll have more next week, if not, please be patient. Thank you all so much for Faving, Following and Reviewing (reviews feed the author). Until next time.**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Sorry for the long delay but I had an acute case of writers block. Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

Chapter 18 -

Harley, Jerome and Thomas showed up at Rick's house shortly before noon. Daryl and Rick had spent the last hour or so speaking with Lionel and Elle, a woman from Lionel's group. Daryl hadn't paid attention the entire meeting. His mind kept drifting back to early this morning, laying with Harley, his hands and lips roaming her body. He had not put more than a millimeter of space between them, rubbing his chest against her chest, her stomach, her thighs. Needing to feel her skin, her heat. They hadn't made love, just caressed until he was past the point of arousal and had felt a dull ache in his groin.

The trio went directly to the dining table, laying out the large piece of construction paper they had drawn the mapped out area on and put the stack of tracing paper to the side.

Harley gave him a faint smile and he stood next to her at the table, grazing his hand against hers and hooking a finger in his. He smiled when she tightened her forefinger in his.

"So this," Jerome swept his hand over the map, "is what you have outside your walls in Alexandria."

Daryl and Rick leaned forward to get a better look. Daryl was impressed. The map had drawings of houses, roads, trees to show wooded areas, and the town. There was a color key indicating which places were intact, which had salvageable parts, and which needed to tear down completely.

Thomas layed one of the sheets of tracing paper on the map. It was four sheets taped together to match the size of the construction paper. "Okay," Thomas began. "So we mapped out a few different scenarios of borders for the walls and and what goes where. This one butts up against the town but doesn't bring the town within the wall. We agree this is the best arrangement, especially in terms of protection."

"How so?" Rick asked.

"For starters, you're surrounded by dirt. Dirt means trenches. You leave about two feet of space outside the wall then build a trench about eight feet wide and deep. Makes it hard to jump over. With spikes imbedded in the trenches, makes surviving the fall even less likely. And with spikes coming out the wall, even it they make it over the trench, they still get impaled."

"Not bad," Daryl said nodding.

"Along the wall, in strategic places you build draw bridges to get supplies in and out from the outside near to where they're needed. For instance," Jerome said pointing at the map. "Here is where we put livestock, a draw bridge goes here to bring in any new animals. Here is where you have the saw mill, near the woods. Another draw bridge goes there. Here's the front gate, yet another draw bridge. So on and so forth. You can clear the land here for farming crop items such as corn, wheat, sorghum, cotton and hemp. These are staples and the best choices. Maybe even soy. Here is for vegetables. Tomatoes, pumpkin, squash, carrots, potatoes, lettuce."

"Wow," Rick said.

"Oh, and power," Jerome said. "Build windmills along the corners to be used for each section. The saw mill will need a lot of power. Also build water towers for feeding the farms and fire safety. Near the livestock area you can also build some human waste compost sites, for fertilizer." He caught the look on their faces. "I know, I know, eww. But you're gonna have it and if you do it right, it'll be a good way to use it. It takes around two years to be safe, so you build three storage areas and switch them out year after year. And with all the sawdust building this place up is gonna produce, you'll have more than enough for compost toilets."

"What are these here", Rick asked pointing to the map.

"New housing. We figured twenty new houses to the east, twenty to the west, and twenty to the south. Five in a row sharing a back yard with another five. Making two new blocks."

Thomas rolled out three more pieces of construction paper. "I have drawn up plans for one, two, and three bedroom cabins. Simple structures, one story, a nice porch, chimneys and a small backyard area complete with picket fences." Thomas pointed to a one bedroom plan. "See here, we build rainwater tanks to feed water into each home and these can be fitted with the compost toilets. Right now you have more than enough housing, but this way, you can grow and people will still be comfortable."

"This is a lot to think about," Rick said. "A whole lot." He looked at Daryl. "I think we're gonna have to postpone the meeting with the other group for another week or two until we decide which plan we wanna go with."

"Yeah okay," Daryl said.

"There's more," Harley went back to the map. "Past these woods to the west is a stream. Tell them about the stream Thomas."

"You have this stream nearby. We're up stream so you get the freshest water and it's good for fishing. You can build a walkway to it, perhaps an overhead bridge, you still need to careful but you'd be protected. But the most important thing about this stream," he pulled out the spiral bound map book of Virginia. "This stream dumps out into the Black Run steam which in turn runs directly into the Potomac River."

"That's safer access into D.C. than the road," Jerome said. "If the city is as overrun as we think, this is a way in and out. Build a barge of some sort, you can bring supplies up the waterway."

Daryl was dizzy. And this was only the first of three plans they had come up with. By the time they got through the other two plans they had a lot to think about. Negan's execution was in two days. Rick decided to hold off on the community meeting until after that and would set up a meeting with the Hilltop and the Kingdom for two weeks later.

Harley had typed up notes of the outline of each plan and volunteered to be their secretary at the meetings. Rick accepted. He wanted to speak first with the people in the inner circle before bringing the plans to the entire community. That would be done tomorrow. Daryl beamed at the fact that Harley was now a part of that circle. She showed real initiative in getting those plans together and pumping the mappers for details of other communities and how they functioned. It had saved them a lot of time trying to suss everything out.

They would have to pick up their pace if this was going to work. Fall was slowly creeping up and before they knew it, winter would be upon them and Daryl thought it would be good to have most the community walled off by then. Then they could begin to worry about things like livestock, planting fields, and building houses. He figured Rick's idea of taking a few weeks off was a no go. There was too much to do and there was no time to take a breath.

* * *

The flames of the two candles on the beside table flickered as Harley and Daryl lay together, spooning in the bedroom in their house. They had packed up their possessions and rations from the townhouse in the early evening and settled into the house with the red door.

Harley smiled every time Daryl kissed the back of her neck, breaking the silence with the sound of his lips smacking against her skin. She liked their quiet intimate moments where they would simply hold onto each other in silence, only sometimes punctuated every so often by bursts of conversations where they revealed more and more of themselves to one another. The good and the bad, memories and events they had forgotten that suddenly came into full view in the quiet they shared with each other.

"Negan told me Carol believed I was gonna come and save her," Daryl's voice floated out at her. "He got to me. Even though Rick and Morgan went looking for her, killed a few Saviors along the way, even Morgan killed, I felt...it was my fault." He slid his leg over her and wrapped it around her, holding her to him. "I might always feel a bit guilty for Carol. Think that if I was a better friend she would have come to me instead of just take off. If I had gone out to search for her I would've found her."

Harley didn't say anything. It wasn't needed. He had worked out things by himself and he just needed someone to bounce the thoughts off.

"I'm not going to dwell too much on that though. I know that in the end none of this is our fault and it all lies with Negan. Carol had the right to leave, she had the right to try to find a way that felt right to her. Negan had no right to kill her, to line us up and make us watch, to bully and steal. Hell, maybe we don't have the right to execute him but come day after tomorrow that's what we're gonna do. Hang him high for all to see."

"It's not wrong. He's a monster, a cult leader to monsters. I don't feel one millimeter of guilt about him. Rapists, murderers, slavers. Fuck 'em. Let 'em swing."

"You been talking to Jerome and Thomas again?" He smiled at her. "Must be telling you some real fucked up shit."

"You have no idea. It's wild out there. Some of these groups make the Saviors seem tame." Harley turned her body around the face him. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. There's enough darkness out there, I don't want it to fill my head before bedtime."

Silence once more. They wrapped their arms around each other and got caught up in their own private thoughts.

"We caught a few rabbits in our traps, Lionel and me," Daryl said, breaking the silence and leaning forward to kiss her lightly. "Be good to eat some meat." Harley nodded her head. "We can breed them real nice, make some blankets from their fur, rugs, things like that. We can get squirrels too."

He held her tighter, pressing his chest against hers, running his hands up the back of her shirt, firmly stroking her back as he kissed her deeply. He wanted to be inside her and let her know by rubbing his erection against her.

"A rabbit skin rug sounds nice," Harley placed her leg over his waist. "We can put it by the fireplace."

Daryl's imagination started going. Harley, naked, under him on a rabbit skin rug, moaning and calling his name. He moved closer to her and grazed his lips over her neck. "Mmmmmm. It would nice to lay you down on that rug, in front of a fire, rubbing your skin against the soft fur." He grabbed her backside and pulled her against him. "Rubbing my dick..."

"Daryl," she gasped at him.

"Say my name again," he whispered in her ear. "But this time softer."

"No," she had a smirk on her face.

Daryl's hand snaked up her shirt and squeezed her breast. "But you feel so good around me." He nibbled her earlobe. "Grabbing me tight," his tongue licked along her ear, sending shiver up her spine. "Pulling me in."

"Stop." She was getting wet.

"I haven't even started yet," his breath was hot on her ears. "Why don't you spread your legs for me?" His hands moved between her legs, past the waistband of her panties and rubbed. "Shit you're wet." He kissed her deep, tasting all of her mouth. "Say my name baby."

"Daryl," she purred as he slipped his fingers inside her.

"Again," he commanded, lifting her shirt and bringing his head down to her breasts, nipping at one nipple and then the other. He groaned when she complied.

She languished in the pleasure of his mouth on her. He pushed her on her back and stretched over her, one hand holding him up. The other was between her legs, working his fingers in and out of her. He leaned forward and feathered kisses along her face, her neck and chest. He teased her swollen bud with his thumb and she shuddered and whined her appreciation.

He slipped her panties off and got lower. "Just a few licks and then I'll stop," his tongue slid along her, hot and wet and she moaned. "Unless you don't want me to."

Harley grabbed his head and pushed him back on her, smiling to himself he began to indulge himself in her aroused sex, breathing in her scent and revelling in the taste and feel of her. She undulated under him, getting louder, grabbing onto his hair. His tongue darted inside her, feeling the burning slickness of her tight hole.

The sounds she made were like musical notes to him, something he could listen to always. Everytime she cried out his name his dick pulsed. He needed to please her, have her flood his mouth with her arousal which he lapped up greedily.

Her moaning became more drawn out, punctuated with hisses. Her legs began to close around his head as she started panting out soft cries. As she came she squeezed his head so hard he thought it would crack. She wouldn't ease up on his head as she rode out the wave of pleasure with a loud cry and he had to pry her legs from around him, laughing.

"Now you're really trying to kill me," he kissed her thighs, her stomach, her mouth. "Take this off," he tugged at her shirt and as soon as it was off he turned her around so that she lay on her stomach. "I'm just getting started with you."

Harley lay in anticipation as Daryl put her legs together and straddled her and softly brushed his lips along her spine, his hand moving under her to gently squeeze her breasts. The tickling sensation pushed against her skin and settled into her nerves, making her moan and writhe.

She felt his hard on pressing against her ass as he moved his mouth back to her neck, laying down on her, his chest on her back, the heat from his body burning through her. She lifted her pelvis slightly and felt him pushing his tip against her opening.

"You want this?" He pushed against her.

"Yes." Her voice was husky, the moan that followed was full of want.

He pushed his head further inside her, hissing at the heat that surrounded the end of his cock, then pulled back out again. He wanted to hear her beg him, wanted to hear her desire for him.

"Don't tease me Daryl," she whined, pushing back against him, unable to get much leverage as he kept her torso pinned to the bed. He began nipping at her shoulders, not making any attempt to enter her, only pressing the head of his penis against her opening, pushing in slightly then moving away. "Please Daryl," she begged. "Please put your dick in me."

A smirk crossed Daryl's face as he lifted himself up, his hands on either side of her, his knees squeezed against her hips. "Like this?" he nibbled on her lobe, pushing inside her just beyond his head and slowly stroking in and out of her, feeling her pussy pulsate against the head of his dick.

"I want all of it," she panted as she reached back to pull at his hips, her nails scraping his skin. She turned her head to look at him, her large brown eyes soft, her downturned mouth pouting and she said in a plaintive whisper, "baby please."

Daryl almost came undone at that moment, he bit the inside of his cheek and pushed himself further into her tight opening and slid along her wet pulsing walls, feeling himself become both physically and emotionally one with her. He paused to get control before moving in and out rhythmically, his pelvis bouncing against her ass, matching her groans and sighs with his own.

Harley wrapped her fingers around his wrists, steadying herself as each thrust pushed her forward. He was so deep inside her, ramming her, completely dominating her in this position. She arched her back and turned her head wanting to feel his lips on hers and he complied, panting his hot breath on her, wetting her mouth with his kisses. His lips moved from hers as he brushed them against her ear, around her jawline, and along her neck.

He began whispering in her ear, telling her how good she felt, how beautiful she was, how much he loved her. She responded by placing her face in a pillow and moaning loudly.

When she crossed her legs, Daryl cried out as her pussy clamped down on him. Her butt cheeks clenched and released and he felt a sucking effect on his cock. "ohhhhh fuuuucccckkkk." The feel of her clamping down on his dick was unbelievably good. If she kept it up, he would explode inside her. She clamped down on him again, rhythmically, milking him, her pussy feeling like it was sucking on him.

"That's gonna make me come," he breathed out and she squeezed harder. "Ahhhhh, baby," he moaned again. Slowly, he took another painfully wonderful stroke deep inside her then pulled out. His hands wound around her waist and he roughly spun her on her back, placing her legs around his neck. He reentered her then pulled all the way out of her before plunging back in between her delicious folds, sharp and hard, moaning loudly as he slid inside her once more.

"Oh, Daryl," Harley groaned out.

He began to thrust hard and fast, leaning forward and licking her inside her mouth while cupping a breast in his hand. He twirled her nipple between her fingers and squeezed it hard making her cry out and pull him by the ass into her. Her moans got more drawn out, her fingernails dug into his flesh, and she bucked against his with a wild fury.

She needed him to go deeper, to thrust harder. Her feet fell from his shoulders and he got up on his knees and held her legs wide open by her ankles and pushed them back, leaning back and sliding slowly along her walls.

"Like that, fuck me like that," she cried out. "Don't stop, just like that."

He never wanted to stop. He wanted to remain inside her forever, feeling the intense pleasure that rippled through him. Pleasure was rippling through her also, she grabbed on his arms and tilted her head back, her jaw slack, her pussy quivering around him.

Usually he would hold himself deep inside her while she came but tonight he thrust through it, causing her to cry out in shrieking bursts as she clawed her nails down his arms. Her body shook and spasmed with the intensity and tears streamed down her face in her ecstasy.

When she was spent he didn't move, he only looked down at her, a strange glint in his eyes. "What?" she asked. "What's wrong?"

"Will you do that thing again?"

"What thing?" She knew exactly what he was asking for.

He leaned down and kissed her. "Milk my cock Harley."

"Like this?" she squeezed down then pushed out.

The start of his orgasm coiled at the base of his scrotum. "Ahhhh, like that." He closed his eyes, panting and groaning as he felt her sucking him in and pushing him back out, lost in the sensation. His orgasm was sucked upwards from the base of his hardness to the tip and she pumped her pussy around him until he shot into her with a loud, strangled cry. So much came out him that he could feel it warm his entire shaft and spill out of her and she squeezed every drop out of him as he gave a long satisfied moan.

"God I love you," he got out between ragged breaths. Harley laughed. "What? It's not just the sex." He fell ontop of her so she could stroke his back while he kissed her everywhere he could reach, an after sex ritual he liked. "Although, the sex is," he kissed her deeply. "Mmmmmmmm."

He wrapped her legs around his waist and stood with her still connected. "There's gonna be a mess if I pull out." He carried her into the shower before slowly removing himself from her and setting her down.

They showered together then stood under the warm stream of water. Daryl came behind her, kissing her down her spine. "You're not tired?" She smiled and rubbed her ass against his growing erection. Arching her back towards him she moaned as his arms circled her and his hands cupped her breasts.

"Uh-uh. After what you did in there? I want more."

"That's only for special occasions," she told him teasingly.

Bending her forward he rubbed the head of his cock against her clit, "this is a special occasion." He pushed inside her and she melted.

* * *

A small group had assembled in Rick's living room. Rick had set up an easel with the map clipped on it. Michonne and Carl sat together squeezed into an arm chair. In the other armchair sat Abraham, his bandaged leg propped up on a dining chair, Sasha sitting on the floor below him. Daryl sat on the floor between the two arm chairs. Father Gabriel, Eugene, Eric, and Aaron sat on the couch. On other dining chairs set up where the coffee table once was sat Spencer, Scott, Heath, Lionel and Elle. Harley sat at the dining table behind everyone, scribbling in a notebook.

Thomas and Jerome stood on the other side of the easel from Rick, going through the three plans they came up with. Rick decided it would be best to have the group choose the plan and present it to the rest of the community then settle on jobs for everyone and stages of building.

They voted on the plan they thought was best, choosing the second one. Much like the first in that it didn't incorporate the town, it expanded the north wall forward into the field that currently stood across the road from Alexandra. There would also be an inner and outer area of the community. The houses would consist of the inner area and all the new developments would make up the outer part.

"That means we'll need more panels," Abraham said. "We have a lot left, but not enough for what we're planning to do."

"We should use those to expand the inner walls," Daryl said.

"After this thing with Negan we need to go on a big run," Rick said. "Besides a hardware store, we'll need other things. More fertilizer, seeds, fabric, solar panels, things like that. We also need items for keeping animals. There's probably more but I can't think of anything else off the top of my head."

"You should find items used before industrialization. Like a cotton gin, loom, horse plows." Thomas said.

"Where we gonna find that?" Abraham asked, shifting in his chair.

"There are all sorts of places in the city," Elle said.

"How are we supposed to get into D.C. to collect large items without dying?" Heath asked.

"Winter," Jerome said. "The ranks slow all the way down in the cold. You could dance in front of them and the most they can do is move their eyes."

"There's a great historical home slash museum not far from here," Harley responded. "Its out in the country but it would be the place to go to. They gave tours and what not, showed how to do all that stuff, had people living that life, like a theme park. We could drive the truck right up to the front door."

"Then we'll plan for that at a later date," Rick said. "For now, I want two teams to go out. Heath," Heath sat up tall and looked at Rick. "I think you, Daryl and Harley can do the hardware store run. Take the large delivery truck. We'll check the phonebook for ones nearby and get you maps. Scott. You, Sasha, and Aaron can go for farming items and hit up a fabric store. Empty everything out. Take the RV. If you can find winter clothing anywhere, bring it. Also pharmacies, we will always need medical supplies."

"Yeah, okay," Sasha said.

"Lionel, if you don't mind," Rick said, "I'd like you to head up construction. Be in charge of all of it. Building walls, cabins, tearing down houses, repairing homes. That okay with you?"

Lionel nodded. "No problem."

"Abraham, I want you to be in charge of security. Study the map and come up with a plan for how to defend the outer walls. Eugene, I want you to help with setting up new solar panels, designing windmills, building rainwater systems for the new cabins and anything else that needs to be invented or improved on. We need your brain. We're also going to need someone who can make clothes, can food, grind the grains, make thread from fibers. Make rope from hemp. It's not pertinent right now but it's something to keep in the back of our mind. Come spring, I want to be able to sow the fields and begin large scale farming."

Everyone nodded.

"What other jobs need to be filled?" Rick asked the group.

Michonne sat forward, "A nurse to assist David."

"Mickey in our group is pregnant," Elle said. "We'll need someone who can watch young kids and a teacher."

"Lacy used to teach eighth grade english and math," Lionel said. "I'm sure she'd be willing to teach for the community."

"Sounds good. Kids should definitely know how to read and do numbers if nothing else," Rick said. "Perhaps in the future we can have apprenticeships when we know exactly what it takes to run this place."

"What about my factory?" Eugene asked. "Am I still going out there or?"

"We move it behind the walls. We'll do that after the runners come back. They even designated a house for you to set up in." Rick answered him.

"What animals are we planning on getting?" Sasha asked.

"Right now, we got rabbits," Daryl said to her. "I was thinking we could also get some turkeys and farm them. We could hunt deer too. Lionel's gonna make a smoke house for now and when we get the wall up, he'll put up a few so we can have meat year round."

"Horses," Jerome said. "As soon as you can, get a few horses. Gas is gonna be gone real soon. Maybe Eugene can figure out how to make a solar powered vehicle, but a sure bet is horses."

"Pigs," Thomas said.

"No pigs," everyone who survived the prison said in unison.

"Rooster would be nice," Carl said. "We got all kinds of chicken but no way to make more. Would be nice to eat some every now and then. I'm sick to death of eggs."

"These are things we may need to negotiate with the other groups," Rick told them. He took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair. "One day we'll be able to take a break, but it doesn't seem to be anytime soon."

The looks on the faces of everyone in the room was mixed. Some were smiling at the possibilities of the future, but most looked tired. Building a new society, even one as small as Alexandria was a lot of work. They had long hours and back breaking work to look forward to. But there was also a life of relative safety that came along with that.

Lionel cleared his throat, "I think I should get started marking out boundary points as soon as possible. There may be trees we need to cut down immediately. After that I say we cut the rest of the trees in the winter. Like Jerome said, the creepers are least dangerous when they're frozen."

"Yeah, okay," Rick told him. "We'll find you people who can help with that."

Rick turned to Jerome and Thomas. "We're going to deal with this thing with Negan tomorrow, then we'll set up a meeting with the other communities two weeks from now." He turned back to Harley, "Harley, you think you can do up some calendars for the other two communities? I know it's short notice but it would be helpful."

"No problem," Harley said.

He turned back to Thomas and Jerome. "Maybe you two can help Lionel set the markers not just for the boundaries but for everything? When we meet with the groups we can take you with us and you can stay with one of them and they'll take you on to the third."

Thomas and Jerome nodded.

Rick turned back to the rest of the group. "I think before anything else, we put the walls up. Everyone who can help, does. The rest will provide the workers with food and drinks. We also need a couple to keep constant look out and be the first line of defense for the builders. I want those outer walls up before the first bit of snow hits the ground."

Rick looked around, "anything else." No one spoke up. "It's a lot to take in I know. Sleep on it and I guess we talk again in a few days."

* * *

Harley stood on the patio as darkness took over Alexandria. Daryl was still out getting a list of things that were absolutely necessary for them to get while on their run from Lionel, Thomas and Jerome.

She drank a shallow sip from her glass. Whiskey. She wasn't even sure why she was drinking it. She was never one to drink hard liquor but tonight she felt compelled to do so. She lit a cigarette and heard Eugene walk out on his porch next door. Harley turned to him and raised her glass in his direction. Eugene gave her a half wave before sitting on a chair and opening a book.

She looked back out at the darkness and decided they needed light at Alexandria. Even with the porch lights the streets of Alexandria were dark. She made a mental note to get as many solar powered garden lights like they had at the Kingdom.

She watched as Michonne and a tall dark skinned woman walked up her porch steps. "Night cap?" Michonne asked, coming to stand next to her. "This is Regina, Lionel's wife."

Harley raised her glass to them, "care to join me?"

"Don't mind if I do," Regina responded, Michonne nodded.

Harley grabbed some more glasses and a bottle of red wine. After she poured whiskey for the two women she raised her glass, "here's to tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," the other women said as they drank.

"Anyone else feel strange about tomorrow?" Regina asked, draining her glass and pouring another.

"No," Michonne answered quickly. She squeezed her eyes tight then opened them. "Yes. I don't know."

"It's so sterile and methodical," Regina said. "I've shot people, I've stabbed them, but I never calmly pulled a man out in front of a crowd and hung him. No adrenaline, no fear for my life, no imminent danger."

"What's the alternative?" Harley asked, pouring herself another glass. "Keep him locked up here? Forever? Negan is a dangerous man and a charmer. How long before he wraps his serpent tongue around someone's mind, next thing he's out, he's got a crew, he's taking over from the inside."

The women got quiet and drank in silence. Harley lit another cigarette and sat down on the porch swing. She watched as Sasha called Abraham over to her post, hand him her gun, and make her way over to them.

"Is this a private party?" Sasha asked, sitting next to Harley. Michonne handed Sasha the bottle of wine and she took a swig from the bottle. "What are we celebrating?"

"Tomorrow," Michonne said. "What do you think about this thing with Negan."

Sasha raised the bottle of wine in a toast, "fuck Negan."

Harley smirked at her. _Exactly_ , she thought.

"No seriously," Sasha continued. "That cock sucking asshole lined our people up and beat Carol's head in right in front of them. His people drove a truck through our gates and men spilled out and began shooting up our home. He terrorised other groups like yours," Sasha swung the wine bottle in Regina's direction. "And you're ten people who scavenge and still had to give up half your share and starve if half didn't cover all of you."

"I'll toast to that," Harley said, tapping her glass against the wine bottle.

The sounds of footsteps coming up the porch distracted the women. Three women joined them on the porch, all from Regina's group. One was a pretty young white woman with long brown hair, the other was Elle, who was tall with jet black hair and pale blue eyes. The third a small blonde woman with short hair cut close to the scalp. Each of them carried bottles.

"Hey," Regina said. "This is Liza," she pointed to the young woman. "Elle and Lacy."

"We brought rum and apple juice. Pretty tasty," Elle said, sitting down on the porch, her back against the house. The other two women joined her.

"I'll take some of that," Regina held out her glass.

"I also have a few joints," Lacy said, pulling three joints out, lighting one.

"Why the hell not," Michonne said grabbing one and lighting up.

Harley smiled and looked over at Sasha, "looks like we're getting fucked up tonight."

* * *

Daryl walked through the backyards and entered the garage to check on the rabbits they had found in the traps. All females, all vicious creatures that had bit his fingers and kicked out furiously as he and Lionel had placed them in the pen. The brown one was the worst. Daryl vowed to eat her personally in a nice stew.

He grabbed one of the two handles he had taken off old brooms and began to sharpen one end to a point. Heath came up with the idea, saying they should also duct tape a sharp knife on the end to use against walkers without having to get too close. If the knife fell off or broke, they'd be able to use the sharp end.

He heard the laughter coming from the front. Loud and jovial. Then he smelled the distinct scent of marijuana wafting through the air. _What the fuck_ , he thought, getting up and walking around to the front.

His porch was filled with women, squeezed along the ground talking and drinking and smoking. He looked towards the gate and saw a few men standing around, watching his house.

Making his way over, he stood next to Rick, "what the hell is going on?" he asked.

"The women are plotting against us," a large bald white man answered. His name was George and he was with Lionel's group. "It started with a few, but it's been growing for a while now."

"Poor Eugene's trapped on our porch too scared to move. Probably afraid they'll say something to him," Abraham said.

A thunder of laughter came from Daryl's porch.

"What the fuck is so funny?" Abraham wondered out loud. He turned to Daryl. "You need to go in there and gather information. Reconnaissance if you will."

"Sure, feed my ass to the wolves," Daryl lit a cigarette. More women walked onto the porch, some carrying what looked like food. There was a cheer from the crowd and the clanking of dishes before the noise died down to a low murmur.

"You should go while they're distracted," Rick told Daryl. "Just sneak back in through the garage."

Daryl gave Rick an incredulous look. "Ya'll serious about this? It's a bunch of women. Probably talking about how they miss make-up or some shit." He shook his head. "Fine. I'll go."

"Atta boy," Abraham told him, clamping his hand on Daryl's shoulder and pushing him forward.

In the dark house Daryl crept towards the living room, trying to decipher words from the glut of noise coming from the front porch.

"What about Rick?" he heard one voice say.

"What about him?" Michonne was speaking.

"He walks like he has a heavy dick," another woman said.

"Regina," Michonne gasped out laughing.

"What? I figured his dick was why his legs were so damned bowed."

A roar of laughter thundered out.

"Is he a spanker? He looks like a spanker," another voice he didn't recognize. He heard Michonne giggle.

"Oh my god, Rick's a daddy," someone proclaimed loudly

"A dirty daddy," Harley said. The group broke into another roar of laughter, cackling like witches. _All they need is a damn cauldron_ , Daryl thought.

"What about Daryl?" Sasha asked and Daryl tensed. He strained to hear what these banshees would say about him. "You know, I use to have a small crush on him back at the prison."

That was news to him. He tried to think back if there were any clues to this crush Sasha had on him.

"It's the arms," a woman gushed.

Daryl looked down at his arms, a slight flush coming over him.

"There's something about being held in sexy muscular arms that makes me wet," someone else said to murmurs of approval from the crowd outside.

"Oh my god, stop," Harley said with an amused voice as Daryl wiped at his face feeling pure embarrassment listening in, as well as slightly flattered. Who knew women looked at him that way.

"Daryl's a real sweet guy," Michonne said. "I bet he makes love, no hard pounding, but gentle caresses and deep kisses. He probably whispers sweet nothings in your ears while he's inside you." Michonne's voice took on a husky tone with a faint southern drawl, "oh Harley, I love you so much. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever been with."

Laughter followed.

Daryl's face got extremely hot hearing Michonne ponder how he was in bed.

"Ugh," someone said. "I bet he eats your pussy every time."

More laughter. The conversation moved to Spencer and that was Daryl's cue to leave. He walked around the back of Abraham's yard and made his way to the porch only to find Eugene sitting on the ground, a look of bewilderment and fear on his face.

"Come on," Daryl said to him. "I'm here to rescue you."

"I am not in need of rescuing," Eugene straightened his back and tried to look stoically at Daryl. "I am observing the nature of the human female."

Daryl never thought he would ever meet a man more awkward around women than him, but here Eugene was. "Trust me man, you don't want to listen to them speculate on how you are in bed. Let's go."

Eugene reluctantly got to his feet and followed Daryl to the front gate.

"Well?" Rick asked.

"Well nothing. They're over there guessing our sex styles. Apparently you like to spank and I believe the term dirty daddy was used."

"What?" Rick's eyes got big as saucers and Abraham laughed heartily.

"Oh," Daryl turned to Abe. "Sasha use to have a crush on me. Went on and on about how wonderful I am." Daryl laughed as Abraham scowled at him. "I'm kidding man. About going on and on about me. Not about the crush. Didn't wait around to hear more. They're just talking shit and getting drunk." He looked back over his shoulder. "See, some of them are leaving already. They ain't plottin' on us."

"Hmmm," George said, rubbing his bald head. "Life was easier when they were barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen."

Daryl laughed. "I dare you to go over there and tell those women to take off their shoes and get in the kitchen. We won't let you turn after they tear you apart"

"Not fucking me," George said. "I'm not a fool."

"You know," Abraham said to Daryl, "Eugene can hear you and your girl having sex when he sits out on the porch at night."

"Oh yeah," Daryl cut a look at Eugene who took a tentative step back.

"Says it sounds like a goose and a bear wrestling." Abraham's face reddened as he broke out into laughter.

Rick had the decency to turn away but his shoulders shook frantically. But George began to make growling noises while Spencer honked like a goose with him.

"Ha ha, fucking funny. And you," he pointed to Eugene, "stay the fuck off your porch at night. I'll get you some earplugs while out on our run." He then focused his ire at George and Spencer. "Make jokes. When those women leave I'm gonna go make love to my beautiful lady while you guys lay alone in your beds tonight playing with yourselves."

"Shit, you don't have to be mean about it," George said as the rest of the men broke into more laughter.

* * *

Harley walked out the bathroom to find Daryl sitting on the end of the bed smirking at her. She had to take a shower after drinking so much tonight with the women of Alexandria, she had begun to sweat whiskey and couldn't stand the scent of it coming out her pores.

"What are you smiling about?" She asked, dropping her towel, her naked body straddling him.

"Just thinking about the glowing review I got from the ladies tonight." His mouth moved to her neck and he gently sucked on her skin.

"Daryl Earl Dixon, were you spying on us?"

"Only long enough to hear how sweet and gentle I am. How strong and sexy my arms are. And how I eat your pussy every time." One of her nipples was pulled into his mouth and she moaned.

"I neither denied nor confirmed anything," she gyrated against his erection that was straining his pants.

"No? You could have at least told them how wet I get you," he sucked at her breasts. "And how I make you scream."

"Oh, you liked that did you?"

"Yeah. You didn't mind them talking about me like that?" His hands had moved between her legs, pulling moans from her as he lightly rubbed her wet center.

"No, it was harmless talk. I'll take a bitch down who ever tried to get with you though."

Daryl pushed his pants down to his thighs and grabbed her ass and held her over his rigid dick before sliding her down slowly on him. Both of them moaning loudly. She rose up and went down again, feeling the sharp pleasure of him deep inside her.

"I guess that's means I'm yours forever then," he breathed out as she slid back down on him.

"They can have when you're old and fat and your dick no longer works."

He grabbed her hips and began to pull her on him hard, pushing upward to get deeper, making her legs shake and her clit throb.

"Just because my dick don't work doesn't mean my mouth doesn't," he panted out.

Harley pulled her lips away from his neck and brought them to his ears, "I guess I keep you forever then." She let out a long moan. "Oh Jesus Daryl," she cried out as he hit her sweet spot, causing her to place her face back in the crook of his neck and pant out soft appreciation.

He grabbed her face and pulled her into a kiss. "I don't hear you screaming baby:" His gruff voice, full of lust and authority sent shivers through her, dancing along her spine. He slowed his thrusts and began moving inside her hard and firm, giving her a sharp smack on her ass. His hands crossed behind her back and held her to him and he picked up his pace again and stroked her with a fury. Harley began to scream for him, speaking incoherently between calling out his name.

Michonne was wrong. Daryl wasn't always gentle and sweet, sometimes he was rough and dominating and Harley loved every minute of it. The way he held her tight, the way his cock slammed into her, the guttural growls that came from his lips. At times like these all she had to do was let him take control and relish in the pleasure that rippled through her.

Soon he was babbling with her, hissing out in between bursts of unintelligible words, digging his fingers into her skin, peppering her face with kisses. As she came, he placed his hot lips on hers and promptly pulled her off him, spilling his seed on his stomach.

After he cleaned up he joined an already sleeping Harley in bed, laying his body over hers and listening to her breathe, running his hands over her soft skin. As he slowly slipped into a peaceful slumber all he could think was how much he loved this woman sleeping soundly under him.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19 -

They stood around outside the gates of the Sanctuary. The other two groups had traveled in their busses whose broken windows had been replaced with pieces of wood or had been covered with cloth. The Alexandrians came with the RV and two trucks. Negan had been bound, blindfolded and gagged in the back of the RV and was there still.

Everyone gathered around and watched as the gallows was placed near the chainlink fence that was now clear of the walkers that were once chained to it but was now surrounded by derelict cars. A few men grabbed up one of the concrete blocks and dragged it to the gallows, placing it on the base to hold it down against Negan's weight. Lionel rested the stool down and Daryl climbed up and hung the rope.

Harley sat on the RV watching everything unfold, writing in her notebook while periodically looking around for any dead. No one spoke. She half expected to hear the rasping bang of a snare drum signaling the start of an execution like in old western movies.

Some of the Saviors came out of the building and stood at the fence watching. A few had solemn faces, but most scowled as they watched the scene unfold before them.

Daryl and Jesus came to the RV and retrieved Negan. He stood tall and rigid in defiance.

Daryl flicked his eyes up at Harley and she gave him a curt nod, affirmation that he would be okay, that he was doing the right thing. For all the killing he'd had to do over the past few weeks, this one seemed to bother him the most. Perhaps it was the methodical nature of it, or the public spectacle of it, Harley couldn't be sure. She watched him as he stood stoically on one side of Negan at the gallows with Jesus on the other side.

Jesus took off Negan's blindfold and Negan stood next to the stool, faced with the angry faces of the people from the three communities that stood before him. Rick moved to stand in front of him and addressed the crowd.

"We are here today to witness the execution of a tyrant. Negan orchestrated an army of people who would come to our communities, demand tribute and murder our people, our loved ones in order to maintain control. We stand before his community, a community that produces nothing but fear and death, to witness the judgement handed down by all of us."

Rick stopped speaking and stared at the crowd. "Does anyone have any statements to make before we commence?"

A man came forward. "My name is Joshua Davis. You sent your men to the Hilltop to demand half our supplies. That day killed a boy, Rory, he was my son. We survived the roamers, we survived starvation, the cold until we found a community where we found shelter, food, a family. Then you and your men came and took the one thing good I had left in this world. And you did it all to show us you were serious." Joshua began to weep before composing himself. His next words slithered out his mouth on a wave of hate and contempt. "I cannot wait to watch you die. I hope your people see what will happen to them if they continue on with their ways. You don't deserve to live. Not in this world or any other world." Joshua spat at Negan before turning to cry into the arms of woman standing next to him.

No one else came forward. Rick waited a few moments more before turning to Daryl and Jesus and nodding his head. The men began to get Negan up on the stool.

Negan struggled, refusing to move. Daryl turned to him and hissed, "you step up or I drag you up by the neck with rope. Either way your ass hangs."

Negan stepped on the stool.

A woman's voice sounded in the distance. "I have something to say."

Harley looked over and saw the woman spoke from behind the fence of the Sanctuary. She began to make her way to the gate, followed by a man and two young girls. They walked to the front of the crowd and she faced Negan.

"You motherfucker," the woman began. She was pretty. Tall and slim with pale white skin and long red hair she had pulled back into a ponytail. She wore a simple shift dress and sandals on her feet. She looked to be in her late twenties, early thirties. Her body shook as she spoke. Her voice was near hysterical. "You like to tell people you're not a rapist. That you have standards. When I came to you with my husband you took a liking to me. I was too cute to suffer you said. I should become one of your wives you said. And then you told me if I said no, me, my husband, and our girls would not eat regularly. We would get the scraps. He would be on the front lines and possibly die. So I went with you, let you use me like I was nothing more than a piece of toilet paper. Just so I could eat, so my husband could live. So you wouldn't take these two girls we took the responsibility to raise into your tower where you kept me and the other wives. You are a rapist Negan. You think you're not because you don't hold us down and beat us into submission. You just threaten our families and our lives. You humiliate us, use us at will, treat us with less dignity than a dog. As you swing from that rope, suffocating, seeing your life flash before your eyes, remember this: You are a piece of shit rapist, murderer, thief and nothing more."

The girls surrounded her and walked her into the crowd. Harley could hear her sobs and felt herself becoming emotional from the two testimonies she had just heard.

More moments ticked by as they waited for more people to come forward. No one else did. Daryl pulled the noose over Negan's head.

"Normally they ask for formal words from the condemned," Rick said, "but I don't want to waste anyone's time with the bullshit you have to say." Rick cleared his throat and stood next to the stool. "Negan, you are hereby sentenced to hang by the neck 'til death for the crimes of murder, theft, terrorism," Rick paused and looked up at Negan, "and rape. This sentence to be carried out on this day, August twentieth the third year post apocalypse." Rick turned around, "May you rot in hell." Rick unceremoniously kicked the stool out from under Negan.

Negan fell about a foot before the rope caught, clamping around his neck. His legs began to jerk as his face turned red, then blue. It was less than a minute before he stopped moving and simply swung back and forth on the rope, his eyes bulging. The people stood around watching. Daryl and Jesus moved away as the smell of Negan's shit, which he let go of in the throes of death, began to engulf them.

Ezekiel walked up with Lucille, the bat was dripping with liquid. He laid it down under Negan's feet and lit a match, throwing it on the bat and it flamed up, burning hot and red. Ezekiel walked away without a second glance.

"It's gone take a moment for him to be completely dead," Daryl told Jesus as they went to stand with Rick, Ezekiel, and Glenn.

Rick handed Glenn and Ezekiel the calendars Harley had made up.

"Might as well discuss the future until he turns," Rick said as if speaking about something as simple as baking bread. "We were thinking we could meet again to discuss the future of the groups in two weeks. That would be the third of September. Does that sound good?"

The other men studied the calendars and nodded.

"Where?" Jesus asked.

They all got silent. There was no real neutral ground for them to meet at. They would have meet at one of the communities and would be there for a few days. Maybe even a whole week.

"We have the room," Rick said. "I know you just came from Alexandria, but we do have the space and will be getting more furniture for the houses. You can also see what we're doing. May make it easier to discuss how we trade and what not."

"I would prefer the Hilltop," Glenn said. "Maggie's getting too big to travel or fight. She won't be able to move easily if we have to run and I know she'd want to be a part of the talks."

"Okay, that's fine by me," Ezekiel said. "Cola can hold down the fort with Markus. Besides Rosita, I only need one other person to come with me so we'll need two rooms."

"How many rooms will you need Rick?" Jesus asked.

"Well, I guess one for me and Michonne, one for Abraham if he decides to come, his leg's still messed up, and one for Daryl and Harley. I guess three. You got five rooms available?"

"I think we can do it. You'd have to share bathrooms though. Inside the mansion isn't as cushy as it could be outside the suites," Jesus said. "They modernised a lot of the rooms for show but the bathrooms never had the plumbing replaced since the 1920's except the public toilets. That means bathing in metal tubs and heating water over a fire. Also using lanterns and candles for light. We don't have enough power for everywhere inside."

"We'll survive. We get hot food right?" Daryl asked. "And you can keep us for up to a week?"

"Yeah," Glenn responded. "So we meet in two weeks."

"That's the plan," Rick said We're also gonna bring the guys, the cartographers, at that time. So I guess that's another two rooms there also. They're good guys and gave us a lot of help. Think they can do the same for your groups in exchange for food, shelter and supplies when they hit the road. When they're done with you, you'd need to get them to the Kingdom."

"Not a problem," Jesus said.

"Rick," a woman's voice came from behind them. They all turned to face the red haired woman who had spoken earlier. Rick moved towards her. "I want to come with you. With your group. We're hard workers, my husband and I. We can fight and my husband is good at building and fixing things. The girls, they can work too and can learn to do what's needed."

Rick looked over at Daryl who nodded his head. He couldn't in good conscience say no, not after what she said about being forced to be with Negan to protect her family. She was the only one of the Saviors brave enough to speak out against Negan, that had to count for something. And they needed more people.

"Yeah, okay," Rick replied. "We're embarking on a big project. There will be a lot of work for next couple of months. Hard work."

"That's fine by us. As long as we're safe and don't have to trade favors for food, we can hack it."

"I'm Daryl," Daryl told her. "What's your names?"

"I'm Justine. My husband is Kevin. Our eldest girl is Lilly and the youngest is Amy."

Daryl looked at the two girls standing with Kevin. Lilly was a brown skinned girl whose long, shiny black hair was braided down in two french braids. She looked to be around Carl's age. Amy was Asian and looked around ten. Both girls held on to Kevin, staring up at Negan while periodically looking over at Justine. They looked like they didn't get enough to eat. All gangly limbs and sunken faces. Kevin was about Daryl's height and twenty pounds lighter. His black hair hung in waves past his shoulders that were bent, possibly from knowing too long that his wife was being abused by Negan and that there was nothing he could do about it, not without risking the life of his family.

"You all were together from before?" Jesus asked her.

"No," Justine answered. "Kevin and I met at the beginning. Lilly, well her real name is Leanne, was the daughter of one of our group. We took her when her mom died. Amy we found on the road before meeting the Saviors. She got separated from her folks when a herd came through. We don't even know if they're alive or dead."

There were probably a lot more families out there like Justine's. Daryl figured he and Harley would end up with a family like that. Raising someone else's kids like their own. Doing all they could to protect them like they were their blood.

Justine made her way back to her family and Daryl stared up at Negan, still swinging and now most certainly dead.

"When he turns, have Harley put him down," Rick said. "Then we'll cut the rope, pack up and head home."

Daryl nodded and trotted to the RV and climbed to the top. "Rick wants you to put Negan down when he turns." He sat down next to her. Harley nodded and looked at the body hanging on the gallows.

"You feel okay?" she grabbed Daryl's hand.

"Yeah. I feel fine. We're bringing that woman and her family back with us. We're gonna have the meeting at the Hilltop."

"How long will you be gone for?"

"We. You're coming with us. No more than a week. We'll be livin' rough though. No showers, no electricity. Bathing in steel tubs."

Harley smiled. "Still better than before."

"Ain't that the truth," he kissed her. "Hey, I want you to show me how to use that thing," he pointed to her bow. "Haven't shot a real bow since I was a kid. Need some practice. Thinking of bogarting that one you got from the Kingdom."

Harley saw Negan begin to twitch. His eyes slowly opened and his legs began to kick out. She stood up and drew her bow, took aim and fired. He was down before most people realised he had reanimated.

She turned back to Daryl, "yeah I'll teach you." She watched Rick cut the rope, leaving Negan's body to fall unceremoniously to the ground and he and Lionel picked up the gallows and carried it back to the delivery truck. Someone else came by and stamped on the charred remains of Lucille, a few others began picking up the pieces and pocketing them until there was nothing left of the bat on the ground except ash and charred wire.

Daryl moved to stand next to her, watching as the rest of the people piled back into their vehicles and the Saviors headed back inside. It looked like Negan would be left there to rot or be eaten by scavengers.

"Today's kinda like our independence day," he said. "Now we're forming a united front. Forging new nations or tribes or whatever." Daryl looked around at the now cleared area, watched the last remnants of people leave and felt the RV shake as people got in. "I like that. The tribe of Alexandria."

* * *

The chainlink fence rattled and bowed from the walkers pushing against it. Harley kept banging her machete against the steel to keep their attention on her as Daryl worked the lock that held the chain that locked the gate in place. Heath sat in the truck, ready to drive off once the gate was open and collect her.

She moved stiffly from the body armour George had outfitted all of them with. Thick pieces of cardboard wrapped around her lower and upper legs, lower and upper arms, around her neck and shoulders. All held in place with duct tape.

The fenced in parking lot of the Builder's Kingdom was swarmed with the dead, as if they had been deposited inside there to act as watchdogs. Heath speculated that that was a good sign, could mean the place was never ransacked.

The faces of dead pressed into the fence, their skin peeling and falling away as the links cut into them. Their foul, fetid breath slammed up her nostrils and the scent of their decay lifted off them in the breeze and began to settle into her skin.

Harley heard the gate swing open and looked over in time to see Daryl jump in the back of the delivery truck. Heath sped up to her and Daryl helped her jump in back with him. The horn honked and the dead began to spill out of the open gate. Heath waited until they got near and began a slow crawl ahead of them.

Daryl and Harley sat against the back of the truck, far away from the opening, their weapons trained on the walkers incase any managed to get close enough to pull themselves inside.

As they slowly moved along she studied the faces of the dead. Their flesh sagging, or gone. Their muscles almost threadbare. In the midst of all the adults Harley saw her. A small girl in cargo pants and no shirt. Her chest torn open, her neck chewed away, a whole arm missing.

Harley raised her bow and aimed. The girl moved in and out of view, lurching along and growling with the rest.

"What are you doing?" Daryl asked, watching her mouth grow tight as she concentrated on whatever it was she was aiming at.

"I have to,," she told him. The girl came back into view and she loosed her arrow and watched the body dropped. She saw the legs of girl shake as the other dead tread on her before she was lost from view.

Ten miles out Heath honked the horn loudly before speeding up, putting distance between the truck and the herd that had followed them. They had lost a few hours with the slow crawl.

"We may have to camp out tonight," Daryl said to her. "If all is clear in the store, we can pack the entire evening then leave first thing in the morning."

"Sounds like a plan."

After the truck pulled into the fence Daryl jumped out and placed the chain and lock back on. They made their way up to the entrance and looked through the dusty glass inside. All seemed quiet. There was no sign of looting along the tidy aisles that were visible through the front entrance. Heath produced the tire iron he had been holding and started to place it in between the two doors.

Then the glass shook, sending the three of them stumbling backwards, startled. Multiple dead hands banged on the door, dead faces pressed and distorted against the glass.

"Shit," Heath hissed.

"Get on the truck," Daryl instructed them. He took his gun out, "one shot to break the glass. Harley, you take them out. Heath, we'll use the spears to take out any that get too close." He peered through the glass. "There's a lot in there. Maybe fifty or so."

As the glass shattered the dead clamoured out, ripping flesh against the jagged glass, reaching for them on top of the truck bed. Harley shot at them as they came through the door. Heath and Daryl lay on their stomachs, slamming the broom handle spears into the heads of the ones who got through Harley's barrage of arrows.

"Let them get out more, they're piling up," Daryl shouted at her, sweat beading his forehead as he pierced the skull of walker. Blackened blood and pieces of brain clung to the knife at the end of his stick.

"I'm out," Harley said, loosing her last arrow. Daryl turned and handed her his crossbow. This gave her six more shots. She aimed the pre loaded weapon and took down two of the dead with one arrow.

The last of the walkers stumbled out the door towards the truck. As soon as Harley shot her last arrow, she got down on her stomach next to Heath with her spear and began stabbing downward.

After Heath skewered the last walker they ate then Harley and Daryl collected their arrows. Heath moved the truck in front of the entrance and they slowly made their way inside the store.

Harley grabbed a dolly and began stacking bags of cement mix on it while Heath grabbed tools and Daryl looked for other supplies to place in the trolley he dragged behind him.

Heath came over to Harley and took the dolly from her after she put the last bag from the shelf on it and she followed behind him pushing the trolley filled with a wide assortment of tools. They left them by the front entrance and grabbed more trolleys to begin another sweep when they heard the commotion.

Harley's heart sank to the pit of her stomach as she took off running towards the noise. _Daryl_ , she thought frantically as she tried to quietly make her way closer, creeping along the aisles that were growing dark in the waning light.

She had lost sight of Heath as she made her way closer to the commotion.

Daryl could see both men were nervous. They were barely men, to be honest. He figured they were in their early twenties at the most. One had a knife at his neck, the other stood across from them, a hatchet in his hands. The smell of them throbbed in his nostrils, the arm around his neck was almost skeletal.

"Look, just back off me and we can talk," he tried to sound calm as he spoke to them. He cursed himself for leaving his crossbow and gun on a shelf as he loaded supplies.

"Shut up. Just shut up," the boy with the hatchet shouted at him. This one was definitely afraid.

"All we want is a few building supplies then we'll leave. Ya'll can go wait us out wherever it was you were hiding, we won't..."

"Liar. You came back to finish us off. You bastards caused the death of so many:"

Daryl listened to the deep breathing of the boy holding him and watched the sweat bead on the forehead of the boy across from him. He felt the blade of the knife move away from his neck, no longer pressing painfully into his skin. In the far shadows he saw Heath behind the boy with the hatchet. He caught the man's eye and gave a short nod which Heath returned.

Daryl grabbed the arm of the boy holding the knife, he felt the blade cut his neck before he was able to spin around and pin the boy's hand behind his back. The other boy raised the hatchet and stepped towards Daryl before suddenly stopping as the barrel of Heath's gun pressed against the back of his head.

"Drop it," Heath told him and the hatchet fell to the ground with a clatter. Heath kicked the weapon away from them.

Daryl grabbed the knife and pushed the boy he had in an arm lock towards his friend, the force of the push caused the boy to stumble and fall on the floor.

"Both of you sit down," Daryl commanded and they obeyed.

"Please, don't kill us," one of the boys begged frantically as Heath picked up the hatchet and joined Daryl.

"We're not going to kill you," Heath said, a look of exasperation on his face.

Harley ran out to Daryl. She had decided to stay back when she saw Heath and Daryl's silent communication. Daryl spread his arm out when he saw her and wrapped it around her shoulder when she got close.

"I'm okay," he said calmly to her. He wiped at his neck then looked at the blood on his fingers. "Little shit cut me." Daryl turned to the young man. "The fuck you do that for?"

"We thought you were them. The assholes who rolled in here with trucks full of those eaters. Led them in the store and locked the door. We had to hide out in the storeroom for weeks. Our people died trying to find a way out."

Daryl looked at Heath, "sounds like the wolves."

Heath nodded in agreement.

"Who?" the boy asked.

"Same group attacked us. Killed a lot of our people too. We got all of them but they did a number on us," Daryl answered looking around. "Fuck, looks like we lost the whole damn day."

"The storeroom is secure?" Heath asked. Both men nodded. "You got food? Water?"

"Not much," the hatchet boy said.

"Well, we do. You let us back there, help us get the supplies we need, and we'll take you back to our community with us."

The two boys looked at one another but said nothing.

"We have walls, food, water, houses and electricity. We're expanding to have farmland and animals, but we need supplies and we also need people," Heath went on. "You don't try to kill us and we can help you survive."

The boys were named Evan and Clarke. They led the group into the storeroom that was stocked from floor to ceiling with stock items.

Health began setting up a space to eat as Evan and Clarke eyed him cautiously.

Harley walked through the aisles, surveying everything. "If we could get all this back, we could build all we need and then some."

"But in how many trips?" Daryl asked and Harley shrugged.

"You guys are serious about your compound?" Clarke asked.

"Yup," Daryl answered.

"And you're not going to kill us?"

"Nope."

"What exactly are you trying to do?"

"We want to expand our outer wall. We want to build new houses, have natural energy, build a moat, build pens and a barn for animals."

The boys looked at each other, speaking through expressions and body language.

"We can help with that," Evan said. "Clarke is the master of off grid living. He even rigged one of our trucks to be completely solar powered."

Clarke nodded. "We can fit all the wood we have, steel panels, a small digger, building tools, and then some."

Harley, Daryl and Heath all looked at each other.

"And we can pack it all from the docking bay behind us," Evan added.

Daryl stepped towards the boys and examined them. "How many walkers have you killed?"

Evan and Clarke looked at each other. "A lot, too many to count," Clarke answered.

"How many people have you killed?"

Another look exchanged between the two boys, this time Daryl saw a glint of sadness followed by defiance. "We killed a few of those...Wolves."

Daryl didn't bother to ask why, he knew why. He merely nodded at them.

* * *

Daryl stood in the shower, hot water beating down on his back. Every muscle in his body was strained. It had taken them an entire day to load up the two trucks, leaving barely anything in the store. After spending an extra night in the store they made their way back to Alexandria only to empty both trucks out. Items were spread between different houses in garages and empty bedrooms.

Lionel wanted to start putting up the walls immediately. In the morning Daryl would start digging narrow trenches that would be filled with concrete then fitted with the steel panels. His bones began to ache just thinking about it.

He listened as the shower door opened and closed. He felt the water cool as Harley turned the hot water lower, then felt her hands massaging the soreness from his shoulders and back. He sighed and looked back at her as she kissed his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Where are to boys?" he asked her. Evan and Clarke would be staying with them until Olivia could find time to do an inventory on all the housing available, which she said she won't have time to do for a few more weeks.

"Upstairs. I think they're staying in the same room for now."

Daryl nodded and groaned when she continued to massage him. "I'm getting too old for this Harley."

"You're not too old," she told him, "just burned out. Don't help with the wall tomorrow. Take the day off."

"I can't sit around all day doing nothing."

"So don't do nothing. Plan for the meeting at the Hilltop, help Olivia with inventory. Just don't break your back. Let the twenty year olds do that shit. You do more than enough to justify not going out tomorrow."

He turned to face her, taking the soap from the dish and lathering her up. "But they need me."

"No they don't. Not out there digging ditches. Not tomorrow."

She was right, it wasn't absolutely necessary that he be there tomorrow. They had a good team and one less man wouldn't slow them down too much. He pulled her close, their wet skin sticking against each other, and kissed her lightly. "You gone stay with me?"

"My bones aren't creaking yet. Gonna help guard the crew." She took his hand and led him out the shower. "Come on, I'll finish giving you a massage in the bedroom."

"After."

"After what?"

Daryl lifted her up and sat her on the vanity, stepping between her legs. His lips grazed up and down her neck, his hands holding her by the ass.

"Daryl no, we have guests."

Daryl looked around, "they ain't in here." He pulled her closer to him, working his way inside her. "Just don't be loud like you usually are," he said with a devilish smile before pressing his lips to hers to silence her protests. "I'll go slow, you don't get too loud when I go slow."

He slowly pushed inside her and she gasped, holding on to his shoulders, feeling him fill her up inch by inch. He moved in and out of her at a snail's pace as they explored each other's mouths.

"This is okay?" he asked as she gasped faintly against the side of his face.

Harley nodded vigorously. "I love you Daryl," she said before pressing her face into his chest, alternating between kissing his skin and moaning.

"I love you too Harley."

* * *

 **A/N: New chapters are going to come out more irregularly until I get back in the rhythm and get a few chapters ahead. Hope you enjoyed.**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Finally, another chapter. I hope you are still there sticking it out with me. Enjoy.**

* * *

Chapter 20 -

The scream came shrilly. Long and drawn out, piercing every nerve inside Harley's head. It was almost enough to disorient her as she jumped off the delivery truck she had been standing guard on and ran towards the danger.

The little girl, Amy, came running from the edge of the woods, screaming, her face red, her wild eyes wet with tears. Her mother, Justine, was far away down the line providing food and water to the workers digging the ditch. Clarke, who had been closer, ran to the child and picked her up as Amy squirmed in his arms and pointed towards the woods.

Beneath the girl's whimpering and the cooing of her mother the sounds of the dead could be heard. They slithered from the trees, an entire swarm of them drawn to the smell of living flesh and the screams of the little girl.

"Get back behind the cars," Abraham yelled out as he opened fire on the dead that lumbered towards the workers. Bodies bent and twisted, eyes milky and unseeing, going solely off instinct and scent.

Harley shot out arrows, keeping a keen eye out for any dead that got too close to the large man. But the dead were coming at him in a semicircle. If he didn't move they would surround him.

"Get out of there," she screamed at Abraham as Evan ran up next to him, swinging out at the walkers with his shovel and the two men began moving backwards away from the throng.

Gunshots rang out behind her and she turned to see more walkers coming around the cars, blocking the crew from getting back behind the walls. The children who had been helping to feed the crew were behind the adults who were swinging wildly at the herd.

"We take care of ours and pray they take care of theirs," Abraham shouted, aiming and firing his gun at the dead. Harley pulled her machete out and and put it into the head of the nearest creature to her. She felt the bony fingers of another one grab her shoulders and clamp down painfully into her. She kicked it away from her and swung into the head of another.

"Get back to back," Abraham yelled. "Step out, strike, then get back together."

She felt the backs of Abraham and Evan against her, in unison they moved away from the herd, waiting on Abraham's word to move forward and strike. Behind them was the din of sound from the others fighting their own battles.

All their well laid plans for the construction had fallen to shit. There had been no guards behind the walls. They had taken care of lone walkers all that day but hadn't been prepared for a large herd gathering and coming at them from the woods where they were working or from around the sides of the compound.

"Move out," Abraham said and she ran forward, swinging down into a skull, pulling it out and swinging into another.

"Retreat," Abraham bellowed. "Move back."

The trio scuffled backwards then ran forward again. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her mouth felt arid and her lips were sticking to the her teeth. With each blow she dealt her arm reverberated from the force, her muscles ached. It seemed like for every walker she took out, two more took its place, growling and gnashing teeth and reaching for her with rotten hands, a few of which she cut off in disgust.

They kept backing up and striking out until they hit the other group. They were encircled by the herd, everyone looking around panicked. The children were ushered to the middle of the group, whimpering and scared.

"Fucking cock and balls," Harley heard Abraham grumble. "FUCK", he yelled as the stench of the dead grew and the sounds of their growls beat down on them.

* * *

There were gunshots and yelling. Michonne moved over to the window and looked out as Daryl and Rick gathered weapons. Something was happening and all of Alexandria was scrambling outside the gates to deal with it.

Daryl, Rick, and Michonne ran to side where the herd of walkers were, swarming and pulsating in a thick mass. Beneath the din of growls they heard the commands of Abraham and the sound of the others in the middle of the herd as they fought against all the dead that surrounded them.

"Fan out," Rick yelled as he jumped on one of the cars. "Use your guns. When it thins, go to handheld weapons, we don't need to shoot any of our people."

More dead were coming a few at a time from the back of the compound. Michonne and Elle ran to that area and began taking the dead out as they appeared. Heads were flying from the force of the swings from Michonne's katana and Elle's long machete. During any lulls they stabbed the heads that bit and hissed at them.

Daryl jumped blindly over the cars and stood behind the throng. His heart was pounding, his palms sweating, his breath shallow. His aim was off as his hands shook in terror not knowing if Harley was in there fighting or lying dead on the ground. He was wasting ammo and wasting time. He unsheathed his long blade, taking deep breaths to calm his nerves, and ran forward, pushing the blade into the back of a walker's head, feeling the resistance from the skull, then pulling out and stabbing another.

The air became littered with the sounds of gunshots, yells, screams, and the disturbing sound of the dead. The smell of gunsmoke, sweat, blood and decay almost smothered Daryl as he grunted and strained killing walker after walker. A few walkers turned towards the fighters outside the circle, making them back up but not back down. The wall of the dead was thinning. He could see the living through the cracks, but the only person he recognized was Abraham, his bright red hair visible through the bodies of the dead.

"No more guns," Rick yelled out and the sound of gunfire ceased, replaced with sickly squishing of brains being pierced and skulls being bludgeoned. Daryl tried to pay attention to the task at hand, but found himself giving the interior of the walker circle long sweeping glances, trying to get a glimpse of Harley.

A walker was in his face, its hot rancid breath on his skin. He had to tear his eyes away from his search of Harley as it lunged at him, rotting hands gripping his forearm as it bent forward to rip at his chest. Instinctively Daryl kicked at its knees while gripping the hair of the creature, pulling its head away from him. The thing buckled slightly from the kick, teeth still snapping at Daryl, the skin of it's skull tearing away exposing blackened blood and browning bone. He struggled to keeps it hands and mouth off him while trying to bring the blade into its head.

He saw another one turning and walking towards him and his pulse raced. In a quick motion he pushed the head back with one hand and swung the blade into the top of the head with the other. He kicked the second walker in the chest and it fell back, toppling onto another, both falling to the ground, one on top of the other. His feet smashed down on the chest of the walker on top and he quickly stabbed both.

"Push towards to cars," Abraham yelled out. The herd was now a handful. He saw Harley swinging her machete next to Abraham, her skin glistening with sweat and caked with blood.

As the last of the dead fell, Harley grabbed Abraham by the hand and ran with him towards the cars that surrounded the gate. Daryl ran towards them. Harley's face looked frantic and Abraham looked pale and in shock.

"Get to Doc Dave. He's gonna need to amputate," Harley screamed at him as they reached the cars.

Daryl paused and gave her a confused look, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Abe got bit. Go get the doctor."

Daryl nodded and took off as Harley continued to drag Abraham behind her.

* * *

It had all been chaos. As the dead pressed into them, a wild panicked fear rippled through the living. It was the sound of gunshots that gave them hope. They kept the formation as Abraham had instructed. Stepping out and putting down as many walkers as possible then stepping back into a tight cluster, assessing the situation before stepping out again. As more bodies fell, it became a bit hazardous. After a time they had to let the dead come to them, walking and stumbling over those already put down.

They were almost clear. Abraham had been whooping with triumph as he smashed into the heads of the last remaining walkers. He had turned to Harley and gave a wide smile, gleeful, almost childlike when his face contorted and he cried out in pain, stumbling back and yanking his hand away as blood ran freely from it.

The thing that had bit him was making another move to sink its teeth into Abraham's flesh. Moving quickly, Harley swung her machete into its skull, grabbed Abraham, and ran for the gates.

Now, as she made her way over a car she turned to see that Abraham had paused. A look of absolute dejection on his face. His large shoulders were slumped, his eyes sad and filling with tears, his look far off.

"Come on Abe, we're losing time," she shouted as she offered him her hand.

"Tell Sasha that I love her," Abraham voice cracked as he looked directly at Harley, his tears now falling.

Angrily, Harley reached over the car and grabbed Abraham's arm and tugged harshly on it, making his chest slam against the side of the vehicle. "Tell her yourself."

When he was across the car she began running, still holding his arm. "Pick up the pace. I'm not telling Sasha shit if you die."

She kept tugging at him as she ran inside the gate, her nails digging into the flesh of his arm, hoping any pain she caused him would distract him from the overwhelming sense of defeat that was slowly swallowing him. He wanted to give up, he wanted to stop and let the infection from the bite spread so far that no amount of cutting would help.

She didn't turn to look at him as they ran around the lake and to the steps of the infirmary. Doc Dave and Daryl stood at the door waiting.

"Get him on the bed," Dave said as Daryl took Abraham's other arm, the one with the bitten and bleeding hand and wrapped it around him to help Abraham up the steps. Harley glanced at Abraham's face. His mouth was set in a grim line, his look determined.

"I'm going to have to cut above the elbow to make sure I cut out the entire infection," Dave said as he wrapped a tourniquet about Abraham's bicep. Dave turned to Daryl, "hold his arm and his chest."

Daryl nodded, placing Abraham's arm on the steel table that stood next to the bed as Dave grabbed a large axe. Both Harley and Abraham looked at the tool with wide eyes. Harley instantly grabbed Abraham's face in both hands, using them as blinders as she turned his face to hers on the other side of the bed.

"Just look at me Abe, don't look over there," she stared into his now sober blue eyes. "Keep your eyes on me, it'll be over soon. Keep looking at me."

"Sasha...," he croaked out.

"She'll be back soon enough. You'll tell her."

"But..."

"You'll tell her everything. You'll..." Harley's voice was cut off by the sound of the axe hitting to steel table. A roar pushed out of Abraham's mouth with such force that Harley stepped back and suddenly darkness took over and everything went black.

* * *

The sounds were moving closer. In the darkness the muffled voices got steadily louder. Her eyes stung from the bright light directly overhead as she opened them. She blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted. She groaned at the throbbing in her head.

Daryl's face suddenly appeared over hers.

"Hey Doc, she's awake," he called over his shoulder. He began stroking her hair, "how are you feeling?"

"What happened?" she asked before Dave was suddenly over her, holding her eyes open and shining a penlight into them.

"Besides the bruising, I think she'll be okay," Dave said to Daryl. "I'll give you some pills for the pain."

Harley gingerly touched the left side of her face and winced at the pain.

"Don't touch it, it's badly bruised," Daryl told her.

"What happened?" Harley asked again, her voice muffled from the swelling of her lips.

"Turns out Abe's a big ass pussy. Knocked you clean out when the Doc took his arm."

"Sorry," Abraham's voice floated across the room, thick and slurred.

"You got a mean black eye, swollen cheeks and lips from where you hit the floor," Daryl told her.

Harley moved to touch her face again but stopped short, not wanting to feel any more pain. "How do I look?"

"You look," Daryl began before raising his voice so everyone could hear. "You look like you were beat up by a big red haired gorilla."

"Sorry," Abraham slurred again.

"Doc's got him hopped up on drugs. He ain't got a clue where he is," Daryl told her.

"But he's gonna live?"

"Yeah. No sign of fever." Harley nodded, still feeling disoriented. "You hungry?" Another nod. Daryl reached behind the bed, "I'm gonna lift the back up, then grab some food."

She winced as she sat up. Daryl stared at her for a beat, worry creasing his face, then he turned and walked out the infirmary. Harley watched Dave work on Abraham, doing something to his stump before applying bandages around it and feeling Abraham's forehead with the back of his hand.

"Sasha not back yet?" she asked Dave.

He handed her some pills and a glass of water. "No, not yet."

"And him," she nodded towards Abraham as she swallowed the pills.

"I think he's fine as far as the bite goes, but we'll have to keep an eye out for infection from the cut."

"Or the axe."

"That thing's very sterile. Boiled and treated with alcohol. Not to mention it cuts through bone swift and efficiently." Dave held her gingerly by the chin and examined her face. "But the largest hurdle is going to be how he deals with losing his arm. Anyone will have a hard time adjusting but Abraham strikes me as a man who needs to be strong all the time. I guess most of you that go outside that gate are like that."

At the moment Sasha ran in followed close behind by Daryl who carried a steaming pot and bowls.

"She'll get him through," Harley said motioning towards Sasha whose body was draped over Abraham's sleeping form.

Daryl set the pot down and spooned some stew into the bowls. Dave took one and Daryl sat next to Harley's bed and handed her a bowl of stew. "Olivia made it."

Abraham stirred and his good arm came up and wrapped around Sasha. "Hey beautiful," he mumbled out.

Sasha sat up, wiping tears from her face. "Hey."

Abraham lifted what was left of his arm, whose bandages were now browning from blood seeping through and gave her a weak smile. "Got bit."

Sasha stroked his face and nodded, "but you're still here. You didn't leave me." Abraham's arm fell from around her as he slipped back into sleep and Sasha crawled into the bed next to him.

"After you eat we should head on home," Daryl whispered to her. "Give them some privacy."

"Yeah okay," Harley took a spoonful of stew. "Shit, this is good."

"It better be. It's that evil brown rabbit," Daryl dug into his bowl. "Evil bitch tastes just right."

Harley started to laugh but ended up hissing in pain. "Damn pain killers haven't kicked in yet."

"I hate seeing you all banged up like this. I don't think you should go out anymore." Harley began to say something. "Now before you go all crazy on me, we need people keeping lookout for herds coming from the other side of the compound. We can't have another episode like we had today."

Harley silently stirred her spoon around in her bowl, not looking at Daryl, not sure how she felt about his request. There should have been lookouts from the start. It was a stupid move on their part. It pissed her off that they were still making foolish decisions.

"Just think about it. At least for a few days. Rick, Elle and I will watch the woods, Heath, Michonne and George will be with the workers and a few others will stay behind the gates keeping an eye out with you. If it goes as planned, we can get everyone behind the cars before any walkers reach the work area."

"We fucked up today didn't we?" she said. "Abraham could have been killed."

"But he wasn't."

"But..."

"No buts, he wasn't. And we can learn from this. Herds are gonna come through, we forgot that, and now we won't. Not again. This ain't your fault, we all thought the original plan was sound, and it was, now we got a better plan." He leaned forward and kissed her temple. "We did good today and nobody died. Can't really expect more than that."

* * *

The scent of decay filled the night air. The walkers they had put down were now lined along the the edge of the woods, waiting for the morning when a small team would gather them up in a truck and dump them far from Alexandria.

Another small herd was passing the compound now. Their hisses and groans punching through the silence of the night. The light of a flare gun lit up the dark sky, sending the herd away from Alexandria. This was the third flare for the night.

"They're building," Rick said. "We're probably gonna see more and more herds. I hope we can get the new walls up before we're surrounded by some super herd." The day's events had shaken their leader. Carl had been in the middle of the herd and he knew what happened to Abraham easily could have happened to his son.

Daryl pushed his leg against the railing of the porch to make the swing go. After they had left the infirmary, Harley had bathed and they ate again in silence with the boys before she took more pain pills and went to bed.

"We'll get it up," Daryl said. "Even after what happened today, they still went back and put up more panels. We got almost half the West wall up and curing in the concrete."

Rick nodded. "I worry about Abraham. He's gonna have a hard time dealing with the loss of his arm."

"He'll have a time of it, but he'll move on. Learn to live without it. The alternative is much worse. We may even find a false arm on the hospital run. Call him the Red Claw. He'll be our very own super villain."

Rick laughed. Out on their run Scott's team had come across a hospital that was oozing with the dead as Aaron described it. It would be a large mission that would require all three groups to pull off. Not only with the clearing and securing of the facility, but collecting and carrying the equipment and supplies.

"If damn Merle could get through then Abe can," Daryl continued. "Abraham's one big tough motherfucker. One armed or not."

"How's Harley?"

"She's a little tough motherfucker," Daryl said with a laugh. "She'll be alright. Gonna have her stay behind the walls for a while, until her face heals."

Rick stood silently looking over the compound. The solar powered garden lights were glowing on the ground along the walls and walkways. No one but them and the guards were out tonight, exhausted and shook up by the near disaster of that day.

"I gotta be honest man," Rick spoke without looking at Daryl. "I'm feeling overwhelmed with all of this. Getting walls up, keeping security, growing food, forming an alliance, the possibility of bringing in a lot of new people. Leading."

Rick glanced over at Daryl, a slight shame cloaking his face at his confession. It was a daunting task they were taking on and deep down Daryl felt that what they were embarking on would test the resolve of everyone at Alexandria. If the seeds of doubt were able to be planted, take root and grow, the entirety of what they were trying to build, maybe even what they had built, could be lost. They were still all physically strong, but mentally, there was a great toll living in this new world took on people. They would have to actively work to ensure people kept hopeful over the next few months, that no one fell into despair and dejection. That could spread quicker than the virus that brought all this about.

"I don't envy you," Daryl said to Rick. "But you got us to back you up. It doesn't have to be all on you. Delegate. Let others take care of shit and just report to you. You'll still have to make the hard decisions, but don't let yourself get bogged down by the little things."

"Yeah," Rick sighed out as he came and sat on the bannister across from Daryl. "Speaking of little things. I think Michonne's pregnant."

"Holy shit, man. Congratulations."

"No definitive proof, but she's feeling sluggish and certain smells are making her sick. We'll have the doc at the Hilltop tell us for certain."

"I'm a bit jealous. Don't tell Harley that. I'm happy for ya'll."

"I guess. Something else, someone else, I gotta worry about. I don't know if I'm ready for this. Don't tell Michonne that."

"You got nine months. This place is gonna be a fortress by then. We gotta break our backs but by the time we leave for the Hilltop, there'll be a noticeable change."

Rick ran his hand through his hair and let out a deep sigh, "yeah."

"This ain't the prison. We learned from that. This is something better, stronger."

Rick looked back over the compound. "No. This ain't the prison."

* * *

"Wow, you look like shit," Carl's voice floated up to Harley in the early morning.

"You really know how to flatter a woman."

"Sorry," Carl looked abashed. "I just mean the bruising looks really bad."

Harley nodded down at him. She stood on a ladder facing the east, keeping watch for any dead that might come from the woods there. A whistle hung around her neck, to be used to pull walkers to her so they didn't make their way to where the work crew were digging trenches, mixing cement, putting steel panels into the cement filled trenches and bracing them with wooden poles on the interior.

Harley winced at the pain in her left eye, which was almost swollen shut. She had no weapons as she watched, the pain pills made her too groggy to be of much use hitting any targets, no matter how slowly they moved.

"Rick pulled you off the construction crew?"

"Yeah. I'm now on ground patrol. I get to stand behind the cars and call the walkers over to me to take them out," he held up his makeshift spear. "No guns."

"I see Justine and Eric are out there. Liza too." Harley noticed a change in Carl's expression at the mention of the attractive young woman from Lionel's group. "Ah," she said to him.

"Ah, what?" Carl tried to look confused at her.

"I was wondering why you don't seem to put off by your new assignment."

"I don't know what you're talking about," a smirk appeared on the young boy's face, a slight blush coming over him.

"You know she's like eight years older than you right?"

"Nothing wrong with that. I like a mature woman."

Harley had to pinch herself to not laugh out loud. "Can't hate a man who appreciates older women."

"Har, har," Carl said sarcastically.

Harley smiled then focused her attention once more to the woods when she felt the pull of Carl's eyes on her. "What?"

A sheepish look came over the boy's face as he took a deep breath and blurted out, "you have any advice for me?"

"For what? To get with a grown woman?" Harley was almost incredulous at the idea but also highly amused. Carl merely shrugged, looking like he regretted nothing more than coming to her and trusting her.

"Um," her hand ran over the good side of her face. "I guess, honestly speaking, show her that you're mature. Or at least have some sense of maturity. That you know how to take things seriously. Be kind and helpful but don't patronize her. There are no more delicate flowers in the world. But most important, be patient. You're young, and she's gonna see you as young. In time that could change, maybe years. The best relationships start as friendships, so for now, become her friend."

"Okay," he said nodding, "I should head out." He turned and jogged towards to the gate.

"Be careful out there."

Harley tuned back to the woods. The crew who were lined behind the cars walked back and forth, sometimes banging on the hoods to bring a walker to them so it could be staked.

The next few days carried on much the same way. There had been no more herds and the west wall had gone up swiftly. A two panel width space was left in the center of the wall where the drawbridge would go. The gap was temporarily covered in barbed wire.

Daryl stood at the edge of the woods, the longbow in his hand, feeling the coming chill of fall, trying not to become distracted watching the rhythmic working of the construction team as they began the Southern wall.

A few yards from where he was patrolling he could see Rick looking through the dense trees. And a few yards from Rick stood Sasha, her rifle slung across her back, a large machete in her hand. Abraham was getting better and had told her to get back to living. He was spending his days with Eugene who was working on making an artificial arm for him. Sasha had said it sounded like a Swiss Army arm, with multiple ends that could be switched out for different uses.

Daryl had seen Abraham the night before. The large man seemed to be okay. No moping, no feeling sorry himself, no regrets. He only wanted to get on, get better, and get out of the infirmary. He had admitted to Daryl that for a brief moment he had given up. Had wanted to stay outside the walls and turn. In an instant he imagined a peace of never having to wake up again to this world, to the walkers, to the memories of his wife and kids torn apart. He wanted to stand there and think about the time he spent with Sasha until the fever took him.

"It's strange," Abraham had told him. "In that moment, it would have been so easy to leave it all behind. Now, I can't imagine not going on. Living until old age, doing all I need to do to keep my ass right here. Can't imagine not waking up and seeing Sasha or your ugly mug."

Abraham had lifted his still bandaged stump and eyed it. "This right here. This ain't shit compared to what could have been lost."

Daryl was brought out of his thoughts by the moan of a walker. He lifted his bow and shot at the thing that was falling apart with each step it took. It's skin was water logged. Bloated and soft, slipping from it's bones, revealing the black goo that now made up walker blood. The arrow went straight through it's skull, getting lost in the trees.

"Let's call it," Lionel shouted as the sky began to darken. Tools and supplies were loaded back into the delivery truck and locked inside. The crew and security team began to walk back towards the compound.

There would be a meal waiting for them prepared by Olivia and Eric that they would all eat around the lake before turning in for the night. Too bad he wouldn't be able to turn in with them. He and Rick were still going over talking points for the meeting in two days, going around and speaking to everyone with their concerns, hopes, wishes and needs.

On his way back to the row of cars he took a look back at the tall steel walls lining the western area, the large field that lay behind them and felt an incredible sense of pride. The last three years had been hell. Fear, loss, hunger and thirst, not knowing if the next day would be their last. And now they were on the cusp of the seemingly impossible; A new society.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21 -

 **Three Months Later**

Snow drifted down on Harley as she stood in the tower near the drawbridge on the north side of the outer wall. Her eyes scanned the horizon as she stood in the middle of the four steel walls which were layered on the outside with half logs. The four walls were five feet high and she stood on a small stool that boosted her higher so the wall hit her at her waist instead of her chest. There was a three foot gap between the top of the guard tower wall and the overhanging roof, offering better protection than the towers they had before. The military style watch towers had been Abraham's idea.

The man had thrown himself fully into the role of head of security. He had said that he may have lost his arm but he didn't lose his brain. He worked day and night to devise the best way to protect the walls, it distracted him from the frustrations he felt at having to learn to operate with one functional arm and one artificial one.

At night Harley would sometimes hear him in his backyard dry firing his large rifles, working to get used to holding it with one hand. Sasha had tried to convince him to simply use the smaller pistols but he had told her, in his sarcastic manner, "I am a big man Sasha, I want to shoot a big gun."

Harley's bow and quiver leaned against one of the walls of the tower, untouched for the day. The walkers were few and far between as the weather got steadily colder. The last one she had seen a couple days ago had moved sluggishly in the whipping cold wind before stopping completely and seemingly becoming frozen in mid motion.

In the distance she could hear the sound of the battery operated chainsaws that were cutting down the trees along the southern side of the wall. Any walkers that were drawn to the sound moved as if through molasses and with the snow now beginning to fall, they wouldn't be moving for much longer.

So many things had changed in Alexandria in the last three months. The outer walls were up, the drawbridges were in place. There were horses, cows and chickens in a newly built barn along the southern side of the community. The dry moats had been dug along the northern and western walls, lined with spikes. There was a small walled off area along the north west wall where newcomers were housed in one of the two simple one room cabins until it could be determined if they were suitable to live with the community. They even had a postal service. One man named Charlie would ride between the three communities delivering messages, packages, and small supplies that he could pack into saddlebags. He had a place to live in each community as well as a girlfriend to keep his bed warm.

The three communities had even tried to incorporate what was left of the Saviors into their trading group. It had gone as well as could have been expected. Their new leader, a man called James, full of false bravado and bad decisions, had met Rick, Jesus, Abraham, and Ezekiel outside the fence as his people watched on and his first act had been to lunge at Abraham with a knife. Abraham's good arm had come up and blocked the advance while his artificial one slammed repeatedly into James' head until blood spilled from the man's ears and the side of his face caved in. Even so, as an act of mercy and compassion, the Saviors were left with boxes of food supplies and the promise of another attempt at a meeting when the winter was over. They were also left with a warning that the next meeting had better be more cordial and productive or that would be the last of them.

There were about twenty-five new members at Alexandria. They had come alone or in small groups seeking shelter, sanctuary against a world that each day was becoming harder to live in outside the safety of a community. Some had come barely clinging to life, to sanity, almost in states of catatonic shock and willing themselves to live one more day until they could find someplace to rest, to not fight daily for a meager survival. A few who had passed through their gates hadn't survived, their life running out after such hard lives on the outside. Three had to be put down, unable to let go of the animalistic instincts they needed to survive, they had threatened the safety off all those behind the walls.

The wind whipped and passed furiously through the watch tower. Harley tightened the rabbit fur poncho she wore and was thankful for the rabbit fur lined moccasin boots and mittens Daryl had made for her out of deer hide. All she needed now was a nice warm pair of pants and a scarf and her watch on the wall would be bearable.

Outside the wall stood a large sign that read in part: Welcome to the Alexandria Safe Zone A Community in the Federation of Colonies. It went on to list instructions on how not to be shot outside those walls by the well armed guards who stood inside of the steel barricades of the watchtowers who had access to walkies to communicate any incoming threats. After the southern woods were cleared there would be an open line of sight clear around Alexandria, making a surprise attack all but impossible. People, the living and the dead, would have to cross an open expanse to reach the gates.

There were no more cars surrounding the compound, they were driven or towed away to line what in the future would become the roadway between Alexandria, the Hilltop and the Kingdom. Another large project the three colonies would embark on to bring some sort of order to chaos of this world.

Harley took off her mittens and flexed her fingers and began to unconsciously rub at the tattoo on her left ring finger. It was black ink that spelled out in clean cursive script: DARYL. They had had a small ceremony at the Hilltop before one of the many meetings that had been held that week. They had stood before the people that Daryl loved and she had grown to respect in the conference room of the Barrington House. In all honesty, if someone had told her in her old life that she would get married wearing a ratty t-shirt and cargo pants in front of similarly dressed people while those in attendance sat around a conference table she would have cried. Instead she had bubbled with giddy joy as her and Daryl held hands, listening to Ezekiel recite poetry before improvising vows.

She smiled faintly at the memory before she was distracted by the sound of Abraham barking orders to the men building defenses along the parapet around the outer wall. There was a four foot space between the top of the wall and the top of the walkway which was being built to run all the way around the outer wall. They were now adding extra steel panels that were spaced eight to ten feet apart to be used as safety wall for people to hide behind incase of an attack.

Harley heard the neighing of the horses before she saw them galloping over the horizon. "Lower the drawbridge," Harley shouted down to Lacy, the small blond woman who was manning the bridge. As the bridge was slowly lowered she watched the three horses ridden by Daryl, Clarke and Evan ride up. Strapped to the back of the boys' rides were deer. Daryl had large writhing bags made out of bed sheets strapped to his horse. When they rode through the gate the boys immediately went around to the east on their way to the barn along the southern wall while Daryl rode up beneath her tower and dismounted.

"Woman," he shouted up at her. "Get down here and see what I caught."

Harley climbed over the wall to the ladder and could hear the distinct sound of turkeys as she got lower to the ground. Daryl's clothes were covered in mud and he had fresh scratches on his fingers. "How the hell did you catch those birds?" She brushed freshly fallen snow from his hair.

"Me and Evan chased them like fools while Clarke held the sheets to catch 'em. I hope they ain't all the same sex."

He came close and began to hug her but Harley stepped back from him. "No. You smell awful," she crinkled her nose at him.

"You weren't complaining last night."

"You didn't smell like that last night."

He grabbed her ass and pulled her in close to him and growled in her ear, "Mrs. Dixon getting sassy. Perhaps she needs another spanking."

An embarrassed smile crossed Harley's face, "stop."

"Stop huh?" He was giving her one of his penetrating stares that always made her tingle. "You didn't tell me stop last time I spanked you. In fact, if I recall correctly," he moved his mouth over her ear, "you got so wet you soaked through the sheets and came so hard you added new scars to my back." He stepped back with a triumphant smile on his face.

"I'm not doing that again."

"Sure you're not."

"I mean it."

"Sure you do."

"Daryl."

"I love it when you say my name baby," his smile broadened before he leaned forward to give her a peck on the lips. "I gotta go find a place for these birds and help Evan and Clarke skin and carve up those deers." Harley was smiling back at him as he mounted his horse. "You and me should go hunting on your next day off. We need all the meat we can get before the snow thaws and more hard work begins again."

"I don't ride horses," she said as he began to trot away.

"We'll take the truck," he said over his shoulder then he galloped off as Harley began to climb the ladder back up to her post.

* * *

There was a lot of movement in the kitchen. Clarke worked on seasoning the cuts of meat they had taken for themselves, Harley busied herself cleaning and cutting vegetables,and Daryl and Evan tried to stuff the deer hides into the bottom of the freezer. Daryl rolled his eyes in frustration when he felt Harley behind them clucking about not wanting the skins in there and asking why they couldn't be stored in the pantry freezer.

"I told you," Daryl quipped as he managed to finally get the freezer drawer closed, "these are mine. I gave the community their share and will even tan 'em once spring comes around but this is ours to use to trade for any extras along the way."

That was the new way in Alexandria. Daryl did the hunting and kept an few extra pieces of meat and the hides for his personal use, although he did give two out of every three hides to the community. Lionel was the builder and he used extra pieces of wood for his own purposes and would trade his craftsman's skill for things he needed or wanted. Lacy tended her pot farm behind the house she lived in with her group and gave some to Doc Dave for medicinal purposes but those who wanted some for recreational use had to barter for it. Same with the herbs, grown by Francine; the tobacco which Sasha and Abraham were planning to grow in their backyard and dry in their garage; Olivia traded preserves of her apple butter; Aaron and Eric traded specialty pickled vegetables and Eric's pasta sauce. Almost everyone at Alexandria had a side racket going that enabled them to get extras. They even bartered personal items with residents of the Hilltop and the Kingdom. No one, however, was allowed to hoard anything deemed necessary for the group's survival.

"I fleshed them and they're wrapped in plastic. Don't worry," he smiled at her, going to answer the knock at the door.

"You got a moment?" Olivia asked in her normally perky manner from the other side of the door. Daryl stepped back and she walked into the living room. "I actually came to talk to those two," she moved her pointed finger between Evan and Clarke.

Clarke popped the pan of deer meat into the oven and then joined Evan to stand before Olivia.

"I finally was able to work on the housing. Getting head counts, moving people. Poor Spencer, I had to move him out of his family home. Three bedrooms is too much for just one person." The boys stared blankly at Olivia as she prattled on before she cleared her throat. "Anyway, there's a two bedroom available in the townhouses, so it looks like you two have your own place."

"Oh," Evan said blandly before he exchanged a look with Clarke. There was some foot shuffling and more exchanged looks before Evan turned to Daryl and Harley, "we kinda thought we'd stay here. With you two." Clarke nodded in agreement. "We like it here. It feels like..." he trailed off.

"Family," Clarke said quietly.

Daryl hadn't expected that response. He looked between the two boys, at their young ernest faces. He guessed they had become a kind of family in the time they had been living there. He had even taken the time to show them how to hunt, dress an animal, care for the rabbits, and next he'd teach them to tan hides. They ate at least one meal together almost daily, usually with Clarke cooking and Evan cleaning up. He just hadn't thought that any of it would mean enough to them that they wanted to permanently reside with them.

"But," Harley began, "not that I mind having you here, but you're both young men. What happens if you meet someone and want to, you know?"

"You can pretend not to hear us like we pretend not to hear you," Clarke answered much to Daryl's unintentional amusement.

"Told you you were loud," Daryl mumbled to an abashed Harley as Olivia put her head down to hide her smile.

Daryl turned to Olivia, "I guess that leaves you with an extra two bedroom townhouse."

"I guess so," Olivia replied heading to leave, Daryl and Harley trailing her as Evan and Clarke headed back to the kitchen.

Daryl pulled out his pack of cigarettes and handed one to Harley and lit one up for himself.

"So," Harley said turning to him with an amused look. "Looks like we have two boys."

"Great," Daryl mumbled. "I wanted a baby and instead I get two grown ass men."

"Are you bothered? By them being here?"

"No. I like them here. They're fun and interesting but it's not the same thing for me Harley," he glanced at her. "My desire's not gone. I know we're not supposed to bring it up, deciding on that, but just know this, those boys, they don't negate what I want. They're not sons, more like," he paused trying to find the right words, to not make it seem like he didn't like or care about the boys. "Our favorite nephews," he concluded. "I care about them, but they're not ours."

"Yeah," Harley said, looking in at Evan and Clarke as they talked in the kitchen. She was able to get their stories after a few weeks. Evan's family was missing and he was holding out hope that they were out there somewhere, safe and together. Clarke's entire family was gone. They all turned, his parents and his younger brother. They had survived in the Builder's Kingdom with a few other co-workers and their families but one by one they all died, either on runs or after the wolves came.

She and Daryl offered them a strange familiarity, a sense of normalcy. She was glad they were staying. The home was too big for just her and Daryl. The boys filled in the space, brought life to the home. But she knew by the look on Daryl's face it wasn't the same as what he dreamed of. And she knew he was still hoping for kids. The forlorn looks she would catch him giving Michonne as her bump became more visible, the way he stared at the new baby that had recently been born in the community.

Even if Harley wanted to give him a baby, she still hadn't menstruated since coming to Alexandria. Perhaps it just wasn't in the cards for them. She finished her cigarette and gave Daryl a kiss before heading back inside.

That night in bed Daryl lay back as Harley caressed his skin with soft kisses. He moaned quietly every so often but mostly just relished silently at the tingling sensation and feeling of contentedness her attention gave him. Her lips moved over the tattoo of her name on the left side of his chest, over his heart. He had gotten it along with his finger tattoo of her name at the Hilltop as well as an infection. The tattoo artist at the Hilltop did little more than prison tattoos. His words to them before starting on their ink was, "you get it at your own risk." It had been worth it though. She licked at his nipple before moving down to his torso and sucking gently at the skin on his stomach as it quivered beneath her touch.

The soreness in his body hit him fully after he got ready for bed. They had been riding since before dawn then walking through the woods, dragging deer carcases on the backs of horses before chasing wild turkey around a field. Even moving his hand beneath the covers to stroke Harley's back made his muscles ache. Her hot breath wafted over his thigh before he felt the wetness of her mouth against the skin there as she licked at it. His fingers gripped the sheets as her wet tongue circled around his balls and her mouth sucked one in, rolling her tongue around it.

A sigh escaped his lips as he enjoyed her oral manipulation of him. He began to stroke himself, groaning with pleasure and gasping as her mouth left his balls and circled his head before following the path of his hand.

He began to stroke himself faster and her mouth kept pace, his fingers becoming wet from her saliva draining down on them. He knew he could come and not reciprocate anything and she would not complain, not tonight knowing how taxed his body was but he made her stop. He held the side of her face and guided her towards him.

"Come here," he whispered as he snaked his fingers behind her head and began to pull her towards his face. "Come here," he began kissing her slowly, softly, his tongue flicking against hers.

"You don't want me to continue?" Harley asked before he pulled her bottom lip into his mouth.

"Take your panties off Mrs. Dixon. I want you to sit on my face while you do that." His mouth smothered hers again while he began to tug at her underwear before she took control and shimmied out of them under the covers. "The shirt too baby."

When she was naked she turned about and straddled his head as she held herself up by gripping his thighs. She lowered herself on his waiting mouth and groaned as his tongue began to flick against her sensitive area, his lips sucking at her bud. Her hips gyrated against him as he lapped at her, peppering the air with smacking and sucking sounds punctuated by a loud moan as she took him back into her mouth.

* * *

"How much snow do we have to put in here?" Harley scooped another shovel full of snow into the back of the truck bed.

"A good layer to keep the temperature down when we place the deer inside," Daryl replied, getting more snow in his shovel. "I want to get at least three deer, maybe four. That amount of meat should last us. Saw some huge bucks out this way the other day, hope they're still here."

Harley nodded. She had never hunted deer before, only small game. When there was sufficient snow in the truck bed, they grabbed their weapons. Daryl had his crossbow and she her bow and arrow. He tucked a hatchet into his belt and tied two lengths of rope around his waist.

In the near distance there were a few walkers frozen in motion, covered in snow like macabre statues. They each had walking sticks to poke the covered ground to avoid stepping on anything that could be buried underneath the snow, not wanting to find out first hand if frozen walkers could still bite or scratch if motivated enough.

The rays of the sun bounced off the crisp white snow. At the edge of the woods, the naked trees stood tall and sparse, slowly becoming denser the further in they wandered. Harley walked in Daryl's foot prints as he walked ahead, scanning the ground for any tracks they could follow. Silently and slowly they moved through the trunks of trees, taking care of buried roots. Whenever they passed a frozen walker, Harley would silently pierce their skulls with her knife, putting them down.

Daryl paused and scanned the ground, there were a few tracks and he began to stalk them. The tracks looked fresh, no new snow had filled them, and they lead deeper into the woods. He listened to soft footfalls of Harley behind him and kept a keen ear out for other sounds coming from the underbrush around them.

The first kill was a large magnificent animal. He almost regretted killing it as he cut a long sturdy branch to use as a pole to carry the animal back to the truck. They tied the legs to the pole and lifted the large beast between them and slowly made their way back and laid the animal on the snowy blanket they had made in the truck bed then covered it with more snow.

"You think we can fit four of those?" Harley jumped in the cab of the truck. Daryl wanted to go back to where they had bagged the two deers days before.

"We'll pile 'em up and get 'em home quick as possible." He started the truck and drove. "You wanna get the next one?"

"I'll try."

"Remember, heart and lungs. Don't want them flapping around in pain."

Harley nodded.

Again they trekked through the dense trees of another patch of woods, trying to move silently as possible through the brush. The snowfall wasn't as thick but enough to leave visible tracks in the forming slush. There were multiple hoof prints in the ground, all heading the same direction and Daryl followed them while Harley followed him. They stopped behind the thick trunk of the tree and looked out over a small herd of deer huddled in a clearing. Daryl motioned between him and Harley, indicating that they both were going to bag something and they did. Daryl got another buck and Harley a doe. The rest of the deer scattered.

"We'll carry the big one first then come back for the doe," Daryl tied the hoofs to the branch and they trekked back to the truck. They ate hot stew from a thermos and took a breather enjoying a cigarette. "I'm too tired to head back for that doe right now," he flicked his cigarette. "Let's get these bucks strung up and dress them here then go back and get your first kill."

As the buck hung from his neck on the thick branch of the tree they set a bucket beneath it and cut the animal along its abdomen, watching it's insides spill out in a red glop. They put their hands, covered in dish-washing gloves, inside the cavity and pulled everything out before digging through the bucket to retrieve the organs they would also use. Daryl then went to work digging a hole beneath the tree to dump the rest of the waste. The dressed bucks were placed back in the truck bed and they made their way back to the clearing to retrieve the last one.

Something was wrong. As they got closer the where the trees ended the hair on Daryl's neck began to stand up. He looked around and saw the tell tale signs of human foot prints, not their own. There were others in the woods with them and he knew, instantly, that they needed to get out of there. Immediately.

"Forget it Harley," he whispered. "We have to leave."

Harley didn't question. She trusted Daryl and knew enough to know that when he said it was time to go, it was time to go. She'd question him later, but for now, she turned to follow him back to the truck.

"Leaving so soon?" A man stepped out ahead of them from behind the trunk of a tree. He was alone. A tall lean man with a scraggly beard, a long handled axe in his hand. He gave a smile full of teeth. He wore scuffed combat boots and black cargo pants with an army green down jacket. A black ski cap covered his head.

Harley tensed when she saw him. She took a step back and turned to see three more men behind her, smiling, walking closer to her.

Daryl moved to lift his crossbow but the axe man shook his head slowly, "I'd take a look at your lady before you decide to release that bolt."

Daryl turned around. Harley stood still, a gun to her head, a short chubby man holding it with a leering smile. Two more men were next to him. They were all younger than the man with the axe, who was now making his way towards them as another man with long hair tied in a ponytail pointed his shotgun directly at Daryl's head and moved next to him. Daryl paid no attention to them, his eyes were fixed on Harley who's eyes darted between the man with the axe and him, her body was rigid and stiff.

The man holding the gun on her was running his hand lightly over the backs of her thighs and moving further under her poncho. His hot breath seared her ears. Her breath caught as his hand grabbed her ass.

"This one's got an ass on her," he called out to his group and Daryl stepped forward.

"Uh-uh," the axe man said. "You move, she dies." Daryl glared at the man who stood a few inches taller than him. "This one's a fighter," the man flashed his teeth at Daryl. "That your woman?" Daryl didn't answer. His face, full of hate, remained focused on the axe man. "Well, not anymore. As of now she's ours, not that it will matter to you because you'll be dead."

The axe man walked up to Harley and pulled out a knife and pressed it into her neck. "Drop your bow and place your hands behind your back. Daryl's heart raced and he looked at Harley who stared back at him and her eyes wide with fear. His crossbow hit the ground and as soon as he put his hands behind his back the fourth man was behind him, wrapping and tightening a zip tie around his wrists.

"All of you are gonna die," Daryl growled.

The axe man stepped back over to him. "Is that so?"

"Yeah, that's so."

The axe man chuckled, took firm hold of his axe and slammed the handle into Daryl's stomach, causing him to double over, wheezing as all the air was knocked out of him.

Harley was stripped of her bow and quiver. Her poncho was pulled off her and her wrists were tied behind her also as she shivered in the cold air. The axe man walked around her, appraising her, dragging his eyes along her body, rubbing a hand on her stomach.

Daryl watched, burning with a sharp fury and trying to stop himself from raging out. He needed to think, not act. He needed to wait for the right moment. He prayed the most they would do to Harley until then was look.

"We should get a good amount for her," the axe man said. "We'd get more if she were younger and white," the man sighed, "but beggars can't be choosers. Get 'em in the van and let's head back. Think I'll break her in myself. The tough guy can watch."

* * *

Harley sat in the back of the van in between the man with the axe and chubby man who had held the gun on her. The zip tie cut into her skin, bringing back unwanted memories of her and April tied and afraid in that room so long ago. She was trapped and panicked, trying desperately not to lose her senses. The van moved slowly through the snow dusted road away from any towns, into farmland, _where no one can hear you scream_ she thought to herself, the fear almost strangling her.

Daryl was next to the man with the ponytail in the seat ahead of her as the fourth man, who looked to be in his late teens early twenties, drove. Daryl faced the window, watching where they were headed, he hadn't spoken once. Not to threaten, not to bargain, not to beg. She could read the tension in his shoulders.

Harley felt sick. The axe man kept sniffing her and running his hand along her arm, her neck, her cheeks. She had tried to read Daryl as they marched through the woods to the waiting van, dread wrapping around and suffocating her chest with each step, but his face was a mask of rage. When he did manage to catch his eye before being pushed inside the vehicle, he mouthed _don't worry_.

She was worried.

The men were talking about selling her. Breaking her in. Passing her around. The axe man placed his hand on her breast and she flinched.

"When I get you home, I'm gonna do more than touch your tits. Maybe I'll fuck you up the ass. Bet you'd like that."

Daryl's head spun around to look behind him but the man next to him punched him in the face then stood tall in the seat and repeatedly beat his fists into the side of Daryl's face until Daryl slumped forward. Hot tears sprang to Harley's eyes and she steadied herself to stop them. A few broke free and ran down her face as she sat in the vile grip of these men. She would have to keep in control, keep her eyes and ears open, work the bindings on her hands, tear her skin off if need be. She wasn't going to end like this, she was going to get out and Daryl, who moaned slightly in front of her, was getting out with her.

"Guess he's not so tough after all," axe man said with a laugh.

* * *

Daryl didn't move. The man hit like a pussy and he almost laughed through the light smackings he gave him. Instead he remained silent and took it, biding his time. He just needed them to not do too much to Harley until he was able to get into a position to break free and kill them all. It wasn't easy. He heard a sniffle from behind him. She was crying, she was scared, and as far as she knew, she was trapped. He wanted a way to let her know this would be over soon. They would be free. He was going to get them out of this. Or at least he would get her out of this.

"I like it when they cry," the axe man said from behind him.

"Let me touch her tits," the other man next to Harley said.

Daryl fought not to jump up. _Not yet Dixon, not yet_. He breathed deep and tried his best to put a look of defeat on his face as the van drove up to an old farm house. A gun was pressed into his head as the driver opened the door next to him and he stepped out. The gravel crunched under his feet. He tried to turn to see Harley but he felt a kick at the back of his thighs and he walked forward.

The chubby man dragged Harley from the van. Her feet wouldn't move. A real urge to scream bubbled up in her. She knew once she entered that house, no part of the old her would be coming back out. The long haired man kept having to shove Daryl on until they disappeared into the house.

"You better walk girl," the chubby man said. "Or would you prefer a path made of your man's body parts to line the way?"

He put his fat fingers on her shoulder and she shrugged them off and walked steadily up the steps of the porch and in through the door.

The house was disheveled. Dust billowed in the air visible in the slats of light coming through the boarded up windows. The air was stale, foul. What appeared to be the living room sat bare of furniture except dining chairs. There were rucksacks, clothing, and general clutter on the floor along with scraps of food and empty cans. Behind the living room was a dining room with a single battered table with weapons lined up neatly. Rifles, pistols, knives, clubs and boxes of bullets all lovingly displayed.

They didn't enter these rooms, instead they were lead along a dark hallway that smelled of urine and rot as they all walked towards a room in the very back of the house. She and Daryl were shoved inside. There was more light here. The boards on the windows only covered the bottom halves.

The younger man grabbed hold of a chain bolted into the wall. At the end of the chain was a belt and it was wrapped around Daryl's waist and fastened closed, squeezing him tightly.

The axe man placed his axe in the corner and came over to stand behind Harley, rubbing his hand along her stomach as he leered at Daryl. "Okay boys, this is where you leave us."

"We want to watch," the youngest man said.

Axe man shook his head. "This show is for only one person," he jerked his head in Daryl's direction as his hand moved up and grabbed one of Harley's breasts while the other one slipped between her legs. "You'll get your turn once I'm done. Then we all can take turns." He cackled like a wild hyena playing with it's prey.

Daryl focused on Harley and the way her body swayed under the axe man's touch. She looked straight ahead, no expression on her face, her chest moving visibly as she breathed heavy. His mind was whirling as he waited for the other men to leave. He felt hot as his anger grew. His rage barely contained as he waited for his moment. He could no longer hold on to the farce of defeat. His look read like murder. He envisioned a massacre about to happen in this house and he would be the one wielding the weapon.

Harley wasn't there. She had slipped away in her mind the moment the axe man placed his hand on her. On the wall there was a bullet hole and she concentrated on imagining herself being stuffed into that hole, her body folding down to nothing as she squeezed inside. This man wasn't going to beat her first like the other men did. He was going to rape her, in front of her husband, and watch both of them come undone. Then the others would come and do the same until she was completely broken before killing Daryl in front of her and selling her off to be used up like the women Thomas and Jerome had told her about.

She came back into the room at the sound of the door slamming. She couldn't work on her restraints while the man was so close behind her. She couldn't look at Daryl. She tried to force herself back into the hole so she couldn't feel the hands of this man on her. She wondered if she could will herself to die.

With the men gone Daryl didn't have anymore time to waste. "Hey," he said to man who stopped trailing his grotesque lips along Harley's neck so he could look over at Daryl, who he was sure was about to become his second victim while he had his way with Harley.

The axe man smiled, "you got something to say to me before I fuck your girl."

"Naw, I got something to show you."

Every time Merle came back from juvie he taught Daryl all the new things he had learned that made him a better criminal each time. Daryl learned how to pick locks, disarm an alarm, hot wire a car, how to make a zip gun and how to break a man's neck.

Daryl bent forward slightly, raising his arms as far up behind his back as he could bring them before quickly slamming his wrists down against his still slightly bent lower back. There was a loud snapping sound as the zip tie broke. Harley turned quickly to look at him, thinking he may have broken a bone only to see, with great relief, Daryl move his hands from behind his back to show he was free of his restraints.

As Daryl unbuckled the belt around his waist Harley slammed her head back into the axe man's face, hearing a crunch. _That's what it sounds like when bones break_ she told herself. Daryl took one long stride and hit the axe man harder than he's ever hit anyone. The man fell straight down on the floor, knocked out.

Daryl quickly rushed to the door and put his ear against it. The other men sounded occupied in the front of the house. He turned back to Harley and saw her draw her leg back and send it into the ribs of the axe man. He came to her then and wrapped his arms around her, nearly suffocating her in his embrace. He stepped back, his face grim and his eyes wet with the onset of tears. He moved to get the axe from the corner and gently, carefully used the blade to cut through her ties. He hugged her again. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Harley nodded her head. "Let's get out of here."

Daryl stepped back and looked around. The room was empty except them, a few dirty mattresses, a bucket and the axe. Harley bent over the axe man and removed one of his shoes and pulled the shoelace out. She flipped the man on his back and tied his wrists behind him. His hands started to redden due to the tightness as Harley took the man's sock off and stuffed it in his mouth. She stood up and faced Daryl, a hardness in her eyes. "He goes last," was all she said and Daryl nodded, picking the axe back up.

"You stay here. I'm going to get the others." The axe man moaned and Harley's eyes shot to him before nodding at Daryl. "Kill him if you need to."

Daryl slowly turned the knob of the door and opened it. He stepped back into the rank hallway and pressed his back against the wall and slowly made his way to the front of the house, the axe at the ready. He paused by a door and as quietly as possible he opened it. The door led to a dusty bathroom where he was engulfed with the smell of shit. He gagged. On the other side of the bathroom was yet another door and someone was making their way towards it. Daryl closed the door he came through and tiptoed behind the other one, waiting for it to open.

He sucked in his breath as the door swung open against him, hitting him lightly in the chest then it swung closed. The man with the ponytail stepped passed him on his way to a bucket. Daryl swooped, placing one hand against the man's mouth and he tugged, whipping the man's head to the side at an unnatural angle, snapping his neck. Daryl caught his breath as his heart pounded. He held the man up and stood behind him as they faced the door, waiting. The smell of fresh shit wafted up from the dead man but Daryl ignored it, he'd smelled worse.

* * *

The axe man moaned and struggled against his binding as Harley stared down at him. She felt calm. She was no longer afraid. She had no more worries. In her hand she held a tin can, its lid bent back. There were no weapons in the room but the sharp end of the can lid could be used to slit a throat, even if superficially. It might be enough to get a man to drop his weapon or stun him enough for her to get the better of him if necessary.

The man rolled on his side to face her and he kicked his leg out at her. Harley jumped back from his reach. "Mother fucker," she said. She moved close and stamped hard on his hand, crushing his fingers beneath the soft soles of her moccasins. The man moaned. She walked around him and landed a solid kick to his spine, another moan. Then the rage she hadn't felt since she was first tied came over her and she grabbed the leg he had used to kick at her and held it up, straight out, and brought her foot down on his knee as hard as she could, pushing it backwards and smiling at him as she heard the bone crack and watched his eyes roll up in his head as his muffled scream filled the air.

Picking up his good leg Haley dragged the man towards the wall and picked up the belt attached to the chain and began to whip the man. The belt lashed his shoulders, his chest, his face. He twisted and screamed and sobbed. Harley didn't stop, couldn't stop. She grunted with the effort, not hearing his muffled pleas, not hearing the commotion at the front of the house. All she heard was the sharp sound of the leather hitting skin until she was spent and she collapsed next to the passed out man, breathless.

* * *

The man Daryl held up twitched. Daryl could feel the fingers of the man brush against his legs. It was time. Daryl slowly opened the door and pushed the dead man through and closed it again. He waited. There was a shout and the sound of a chair hitting the floor.

Daryl opened the door again and looked at the chaos. The chubby man, the one who had wanted to touch Harley in the car, was panting, pulling a knife from the fresh walker Daryl had unleashed on them. Daryl swung the axe back over his head and flung it into the chest of the chubby man. The young man screamed as the chubby man went to his knees and fell forward, pushing the axe deeper in his chest. Daryl ran forward before the boy could reach the dining table filled with weapons. He picked up a club and swung it at the boy who ducked, making Daryl only hit air.

"Come here you fucker," Daryl yelled at him as he grabbed for the boy. The boy tried to run out the front door but Daryl grabbed him by his collar, choking him, and dragged him back. He slammed the boy's face into the door jamb and slammed the door closed. Dragging the boy by his collar, he went to the chubby man, kicked him over on his back, and pulled the axe out his chest and dragged the boy down the hall into the back room where Harley waited for him.

Inside the axe man was whimpering, his leg was bent at an unnatural angle, sweat beaded his forehead, bloody welts swelling on his face. "You okay?" he asked Harley as he threw the boy across the room. She nodded, looking at him with a question in her eyes. Daryl bent down and yanked the sock out of the axe man's mouth.

"One of you gets to die now and the other gets to tell us about these men coming to trade women for supplies." Daryl paced slightly, swinging the axe in his hand. "Who's gonna talk and who's gonna die?"

There was scratching on the other side of the door. Daryl ignored it and looked between the two would be rapists. No one made a move to answer. Daryl swung the axe and slammed it into the floorboards in anger. Everyone jumped, including Harley. The scratching at the door became more fevered.

"That's your fat fuck buddy," Daryl said, yanking the axe out the floor and slinging it on his shoulder. He began to walk back and forth again. "I want to know about the men who you were planning to sell MY FUCKING WIFE TO."

The axe man began to laugh. It wasn't genuine, but a forced laugh for some effect that he wasn't having on Daryl or Harley. "Why? You plan on selling her yourself?"

Daryl stopped walking. He slowly handed the axe to Harley and knelt down beside the man. "I guess you die." Daryl wrapped his hands around the man's throat and squeezed. The man's face reddened and he gagged. His tongue pushed out his mouth as his eyes began to bulge and his good leg kicked out.

The boy began to crawl forward but Harley raised the axe at him and he scurried back against the wall. The other man stopped kicking and Daryl stood up, flexing his fingers that were sore. He turned his glare on the young boy.

"I suggest you start talking."

The boy was shaking, he was fighting hard not to cry or scream or both. Daryl took a deep breath and squatted down to be on the boy's eye level. "You talk and we let you go. If not, I throw you out there and let your friend tear you up."

Harley looked between Daryl and the boy. No matter what, she was not going to let the boy go. Not alive.

There was a deep gasp as the other man came to. He had merely passed out from the strangulation. Daryl looked back at him unsurprised. He had let the man's throat go the moment he had stopped moving. It didn't matter. Harley stepped over the man, brought the axe up and sent it screaming down into his skull. He was dead now.

The eyes of the young man widened and he let out a mewl. "Four days. They'll be here in four days."

"Go on," Daryl said gently, trying to coax calm from the terrified boy.

"They come every twenty to thirty days. We get women and children and depending on the amount and how they look, they give us supplies."

"How many are there?"

"Five. One time there were eight but now there's five."

"Who comes? What are their names?"

"The man, the leader, calls himself Cody. He's small and old. Big belly. Mean. There's another one, think he's Danny. Younger, but still old. My height. Wears a cowboy hat. Don't know the rest." The boy was now crying, his eyes going back the body on the floor, it's head caved in and running red. The walker outside the door was in a slight frenzy as the smell of blood filled the air.

"And how does this work?"

"We meet them at the crossroad. Down the hill. Usually midday. We bring the people and they show us what we can get for them. We've been getting food lately and bullets. Sometimes it's clothes."

"Anything else?"

"Yes. Sometimes they have other people with them. Tied up in a horse trailer. They must do pickups elsewhere."

"Okay," Daryl said moving towards the boy. "Okay." He lifted the boy to his feet and smiled at him. The boy relaxed. Quick as light Daryl spun the boy around and gripped his arms behind his back. "Get the door Harley."

"No," the boy cried out. "I told you. I told you," he screamed hysterically as Harley walked to the door and gripped the knob. The boy planted his feet firmly to the ground and Daryl kicked at them as he moved the boy forward. "Please, you said you would let me go."

"You little fuck," Daryl hissed. "You wanted to watch." Daryl nodded his head at Harley and she pulled the door open. The dead thing walked in, arms outstretched, fingers grabbing. Daryl pushed the boy into it and it was on him instantly, biting flesh as horrible screams came from the boy. Daryl and Harley sidestepped them into the hallway and closed the door.

* * *

In the van Daryl fumbled with the wires. He sparked them together and the engine roared. Harley sat silently in the passenger seat, staring at the farmhouse. Their weapons were at her feet. Daryl sat up and turned on the heat, her poncho was still in the woods where they had made her take it off. She was shivering, from more than just the cold Daryl suspected.

"You okay?" he watched her, not knowing how to comfort her, not knowing what to say. She nodded, not looking at him. "Let's go home Harley."

"No."

"What?"

"No. I want my deer Daryl."

"We'll get the truck but we can forget..."

"I want my fucking deer," her voice was loud and she was looking at him with fire in her eyes. "I killed that deer and I want my FUCKING DEER DARYL." She was bordering on hysterical. She didn't know why it was so important to retrieve her doe, but it was. She wasn't going to leave it there in the snow in the woods. She had to have it, had to string it up and dress it. She wanted its hide, to tan it and make something from it and feel it on her skin. It was imperative to her, the most important thing at that moment.

"I want my deer," she said again, softer. Then she choked and the next sound she made was anguished. Her face crumpled and tears, hard and fierce came from her. She hugged herself and all the fear she had had spilled from her in her crying. A full bodied cry, uninhibited as she howled and shook and choked on her tears.

Daryl reached over, afraid, alarmed at the utter rawness of her display, and pulled her over to him. She curled up on his lap and he wrapped his arms around her and rocked her, holding her tightly.

"We'll get your deer Harley, don't worry. We'll get it."

* * *

 **A/N: I'm working hard on the next chapter. I hope it won't take as long to get up as this one did. Thank you all for supporting me and my endeavour to finish this story.**


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22 -

Daryl removed Harley's clothes slowly, so as not to startle her, so he could gauge her reaction to him stripping her. She didn't make a move, only lifting her arms up or her legs to step out her pants. She watched him as he removed his clothing and went to turn on the shower and allowed him to guide her in.

She had reverted back to being eerily calm after her outburst in the van. By the time they had reached Alexandria, Daryl had to look at her to see that she was still breathing, she was so quiet and still.

They had ditched the van by the woods, retrieved the doe and placed it with the others and gone home. It was dark now. The truck with the animals was parked on the street in front of their house, fresh snow falling down on them. A few people had stared as he led her up the stairs, but he couldn't be bothered to give them any thought. He was worried about her.

She had new raw marks on her wrists to go with her old rope scars. Had he not known how to break out of zip ties, she'd be...he didn't want to think about that. His end would have been a mercy. He wouldn't have had to think any more about witnessing her going to through what they had in store for her. Her horror, however, would have only just started.

Even though none of that had come to pass, he couldn't help but think about the what ifs, and he imagined she was thinking about them more. She was gone. She had become a shell. She had no expression and no more emotion. He had thought with her breaking the man's leg and taking his life with the axe she would have been okay. But she wasn't okay. She was far from okay and this silence was more fearful to him than her crying had been.

She was in a daze as he lathered soap on her and rinsed it off. She was in a daze as he dried her off and she was in a daze as he lay her in the bed and pulled the covers up over her.

"I'mma go deal with those deer and then go talk to Rick," he told her before he shut the light off and walked out the door.

Evan was in the kitchen when he came out. He tossed the truck keys to the boy, "go get Clarke and take those deer. One still needs to be dressed and all of 'em need to be skinned."

Evan just stared at him.

"Can ya'll handle that?" Even nodded. "That doe hide, that comes here. Get George, he'll deal with the meat."

Evan nodded again. "What happened to your face?" The boy's voice was tentative, he looked almost afraid.

Daryl strained not to yell at the boy. He took a deep breath and clenched his fists. "Just please, do what I asked. I need to see Rick."

"Are we in danger?"

"Damnit Evan," Daryl yelled. "Just please?" Daryl squeezed his eyes shut and took another breath trying to keep his anger in check. "No, we're not in danger. Some bad shit went down today and I need to talk to Rick."

"Is Harley okay?"

 _Fuck shit this kid's annoying_. "Evan?" Daryl said slowly, sternly and took a step towards the boy who quickly nodded his head and ran upstairs.

Daryl breathed in heavy, trying to calm himself, not wanting to go to Rick hysterical and unable to explain all that happened today. He looked over at the bedroom door, hoping that sleep would be all Harley needed, that she wouldn't become trapped in what happened today, that this wouldn't be the thing that finally broke her.

* * *

"Four days?" Rick asked.

Daryl nodded as he sat at Rick's dining table with Rick, Michonne, Abraham, Sasha and Carl. He knew what he wanted to do and from the looks on everyone's faces, they wanted to do the same. Slavers in their backyard couldn't stand.

Sasha had gasped when Daryl spoke of the horse trailer. Perhaps the sense of being hauled to a fate worse than death like livestock made everything finally click with her.

"How's Harley doing?" Michonne asked, breaking the silence.

"Not as bad as she could have been but not too good." Daryl answered, worrying about her, wanting to get this over with so he could go check on her.

"We kill them right?" Carl face was set with determination.

"Not all of them," Rick answered, standing up and pacing back and forth, thinking. "The main guy, what's his name?"

"Cody," Daryl said.

"Cody lives. For a while anyway."

"How do we do this?" Daryl couldn't think. All he knew was that he wanted to find these men and put an end to them.

"We meet them," Abraham answered.

"Kill them on the road," Sasha spoke up. "There are a few good shots here, we take 'em out on the road. We only need to get four."

"Except we don't know which direction they're coming from," Rick answered. "We need to get a group of guys and some women for bait." He looked back at Sasha. "Get your snipers set up and take out everyone but this Cody guy once they stop to pick up the cargo."

"We need to get out there tomorrow and get a look at the area. See where we should be situated." They all nodded at Sasha's suggestion. "With the snow, there's not going to be a lot of cover."

"Who do we use as bait?" Michonne had a look that spoke of her disgust at having to deal with human traffickers.

"It's gonna have to be a good haul to take their mind off the fact that we're not the usual guys," Abraham muttered.

"Young and white," Daryl said. "The guy said they would get more if Harley were younger and white."

"Lacy," Sasha said. "She's small, cute and blonde. Plus she's a fighter and can knife the shit out of anyone if things go south."

"That little thing Carl keeps following around," Abraham said. "Lisa? Lizzy? Something like that." Abraham snapped his fingers at Carl who was looking at the ground. "You think she can handle that?"

Carl glared at Abraham but nodded his head.

"What's her name son?" Rick tried not to smile at his angry and embarrassed son.

"Liza," Carl mumbled out.

"And Carl," Daryl said. "He's young and he doesn't look half as dangerous as he is."

"Why me?" Carl looked shocked.

"You think all of 'em only like girls?"

"But I only have one eye."

"Ain't gone be your eye they're after," Daryl deadpanned as Rick and Michonne's faces visibly tightened.

"And the captors?" Sasha asked.

"Me and Rick," Abraham said. "We can tell 'em we took over operations. Then I say get Spencer and Eugene to fill out the rest of the crew. With that ponytail Eugene looks like a real creep and Spencer looks unassuming." Abraham looked at Daryl, "I don't think you should be there. Not to greet them at least. I can read your anger from here."

Daryl didn't say anything.

"Our snipers?" Rick finally sat back down from his pacing.

"Me. Father Gabriel has become a really good shot," Sasha spoke up. "Also that guy from the Sanctuary, Kevin. I'm sure he'd be on board to take out men who abuse women and kids."

"We'll also need back up," Michonne said. "People on the road to keep an eye out. Let us know when they're coming, from which direction, where Cody is in the car incase we have to attack them while they're still inside."

Rick sighed and ran his hand over his face. "Okay, lets see. We got Lacy, Liza and Carl as bait. Me, Abraham, Spencer and Eugene as slavers. Sasha, Father Gabriel, and Kevin as snipers. We can get Aaron, George, Scott, Heath, Francine and," he ran his hand through his hair. "We'll need a few more but that's all I can think of off the top of my head to watch the road and be our back up." He looked around. "We need to inform people tonight and in the meantime think of three or four more people who can come. Our bait have to look run down, filthy clothes, filthy skin, desperate looks."

"Four days," Michonne whispered out rubbing her belly.

"Four days," Rick echoed. "We head out tomorrow at sun up. Michonne, can you gather everyone who's not here so we can explain this to them?"

Michonne nodded and stood. Daryl stood also. "If it's all the same to you, I need to get home. I'll meet you in the morning ready to go."

Rick nodded, "yeah man, go home." Daryl turned and headed for the door. "Daryl," Rick called out to him. "We'll get 'em."

Daryl nodded and walked out the door.

* * *

Harley sat in the dark on the bed, the half full bottle of wine still in her hand though she was no longer drinking. When she had heard everyone leave she got up, ate a bit of food and proceeded to drink herself into oblivion. It hadn't worked. She was drunk, her body was numb, but her mind kept flashing back to the farmhouse. The words of the men. The feel of their hands on her. The fear she had felt.

She had cried some more then threw up the half bottle of wine she drank before sitting silently in the dark not quite knowing what to do with herself.

She had fooled herself into believing she was strong. Tough. A survivor. Today showed her just how weak and vulnerable she was. How weak and vulnerable she would always be. The unthinking masses of dead were one thing, but thinking people? She tried to push it out of her mind, but it wouldn't leave.

She contemplated remaining forever behind the walls. She had projects she needed to work on. Setting up the library in the building that would hold the school. Getting started on record keeping for Alexandria. Starting on organizing the vast notes she had on the survivors into some coherent story to show the generations to come, those who would never know the world before.

The sound of April screaming as she was pulled from the room came to Harley's mind. "I'm sorry," she whispered, fresh tears coming. April was dead. Harley had left her behind to be raped, sold, and killed. Alone. There was nothing she could have done but knowing that April had to endure such horrors with no one to help her, no one to give her hope, made Harley think of how frightening the last days of April's life must have been.

Harley's leaned her head against the headboard and began to spill fresh tears, her body jerking.

* * *

The house was in darkness. Daryl switched on the light in the living room before going to stand outside the bedroom door. He leaned his head against the cool wood of the door and placed his hand on the knob, not sure if he should go in or leave her alone.

"Harley," he spoke softly into the door. He went to turn the knob only to find it locked. A sudden panic set in on him. He knocked softly. "Harley?" There was no reply. He knocked again louder, a fear coiling through him. A real fear that the events of the day had brought her down so low that she had gone into a dark place and hurt herself.

 _No, she's asleep_ , he told himself as he banged on the door. "Harley," he shouted, banging again. "Harley, open the door." He grabbed the knob and began to shake the door back and forth. He pressed his ear against the door, listening as his heart pounded in his chest. "Harley, if you don't open this door right now I swear to fucking god I'll pull it off the hinges."

There was a click as the door was unlocked but remained closed. Daryl went to open the door and then stopped. "I understand if you want to be alone," he spoke quietly, taking deep breaths to steady himself after the alarm he had felt thinking she had harmed herself. "But don't lock this door." He sighed deeply. "I'm here for you Harley, when you're ready." He started to move away then come back. "I love you."

When Evan and Clarke finally came home Daryl was sitting on the couch staring blankly at the fire he had built in the fireplace, a tumbler filled with whiskey in his hand, smoking a cigarette. He never smoked indoors but tonight he didn't care. He had been able to save his wife from those men today but he was helpless to do anything about the emotional damage that had been done to her. At that moment he felt impotent. Powerless.

The boys stopped speaking as soon as they spotted him. Daryl came out of his daze as he felt their eyes on him.

"Everything all right?" Clarke asked. Daryl merely stared at them as they watched him with faces full of concern. "We got the story from Michonne when she came to get George," Clarke continued. "Do you need anything?"

"Nah," Daryl said. "Gonna sleep out here tonight though. Sorry for the smoke."

"I'll go put this in the freezer," Evan held up the doe hide, "and head on up to bed."

Daryl merely grunted and took a sip of liquor. He focused his eyes on the rabbit fur rug in front of the fireplace and smiled remembering the night he had suggested it. He had thought those few days he and Harley had separated would have been their hardest. He had thought wrong.

He had smoked a few more cigarettes and had drunk the tumbler down and still he sat staring at the fire until he felt someone come into the room. He looked up and watched Clarke come up to the couch with a pillow and blanket folded in his hand. Clarke sat down next to him and placed the items he held on the couch in the space between them.

The boy said nothing for a while before taking a deep breath. "For a long time I thought this new world was so much worse than the old. But it's not. Sure, the dead walk and eat you, but other than that, it's just the same but without the modern conveniences."

Daryl turned his head to stare at Clarke, not having any idea where he was going with this.

"What happened out there today. Evan and George started talking about how dangerous things are now. How unsafe it is for women. How it wasn't like that before. All I could think was how wrong they were. How many news stories were there about women killed at home, on their jobs, bodies found in the woods?"

Clarke leaned forward and placed his elbows on his thighs. He went silent again and didn't speak or move for a long time before sitting back. "When I was in fourth grade one my classmates went missing. Her name was Tiffany Willard. It was big news in my town. Every year on the anniversary of her disappearance the local news would do a story on her. We were all growing up, our faces and bodies changing, but they would show the images of Tiffany when she went missing and she simply remained the same age.. A nine year old little girl, forever. They never found her. One day she was in class laughing with her friends and then...just gone."

Daryl's eyes slid back over to Clarke, listening.

"It's always been like that. Children, women, men. Taken and killed and the perps would go on to the next until they got caught. Sometimes they were never found or worse, the police couldn't legally get anything on them. Men like the ones that took you and Harley have always existed. We lived with them or next to them, worked with them. None of that has changed. Only difference is, we can now really do something about it. No trials, no slick lawyers making excuses, no long jail sentences."

Clarke looked directly at Daryl and Daryl flinched a little at the darkness he saw in Clarke's eyes. The boy was usually quiet with a reticent demeanor. He wasn't overly friendly, a bit shy, but was quick to smile with those he knew and felt comfortable with. Always wanting to be of help. But now he had the look of a hardened man. A man who could go out and gut the world if need be.

"I want to go with you tomorrow," Clarke said. "I want to make sure those guys pay for what they're doing. I want to make sure the people they get those women from no longer walk this earth."

"You sure you're ready for all that? Hunting people down and killing them?"

Clarke gave a slow nod. "I'm not a killer but I've killed and I'd do it again if I need to. I feel like I need to do this. For Harley. For Tiffany."

"We leave first light to get a look at the area. If you're up you can come but I'm not coming to get you."

Clarke nodded and stood up. "Sun up. I'll be here." He left then and Daryl was alone once more.

The world before might not have been as safe as they made it out to be in their nostalgia, but this world turned otherwise good people hard. Maybe they were always hard but never had cause to show it. Perhaps it was dormant within them, just needing the right catalyst to come forth and show itself. He wondered how the people born in this world would be. Maybe it was best that he and Harley didn't have children lest they grow into cold adults whose idea of justice was swift and brutal with no recourse, no mercy. Just a hollow shell of what a human should be.

Daryl lay down on the couch, covered himself with the blanket and slept. He was awoken by the sound of someone walking past him. He didn't move, only opened his eyes and heard someone shuffling the embers and stuffing a log into the fireplace. The room blazed again in an orange glow and he saw Harley stand up straight and come over to him on the couch. She looked sullen as she moved the blanket off him and lay down between his legs before covering them both.

She shifted her body as she craned her neck up and moved to kiss him softly on his cheek. "I love you," she said before resting her head on his chest and wrapping her arms around him.

A faint smile came to Daryl's lips as he began rubbing her back, relieved that she had come to him. "We're heading to the crossroads tomorrow. Gonna take those guys down." She sighed deep but said nothing. "You gone come?"

"No." Her voice was muffled against his chest. She lifted her head up and looked at him by the light of the fire. "I'm going where I belong and it's not out there. Not for a while anyway."

"And where is it you belong Harley?"

"In the library. In the records room. In my office working on my book."

Daryl nodded. "That's what you want?"

"That's what I want. Until the roads start getting built."

"And you want no part in this?"

"I trust you and Rick to do the right thing."

"We will Harley. That shit won't be tolerated 'round these parts. What happened today is not gonna happen again to you or anyone else."

"That can't be guaranteed. Not in this world. Not in the old."

That's basically the same thing Clarke had told him. This is what has always happened. He knew guys growing up who would gladly participate. Shit, some of them were probably running their own rings in Georgia right now. The most they could do was punish all those involved and let it be known their area was a dangerous one to partake in those activities.

He held her tighter, kissing the top of her head. "I meant what I told you before Harley. I will always have your back. Always fight for you. Protect you."

"I know."

* * *

Daryl sat in the snow next to Sasha behind stacked bales of hay in a field near the crossroads. The frozen wind whipped and stung their skin. They had arrived in mid morning and got everyone into position. Four two person teams were stationed along the roads leading to the crossroads, waiting with walkies to let them know when the slavers were arriving and from which direction.

Eugene, Abraham, Rick, and Spencer sat with the three captors in a car off the road, staying warm until they got the word that their target was arriving.

Daryl was unable to sit still, he spent his time chewing on his thumb, smoking, or walking back and forth waiting for the walkie to crackle and a voice to give them some information.

"We're gonna get them," Sasha told him as she stood and worked the cramps out of her legs. "We're gonna kill them and help whoever they may have trapped."

Daryl nodded but he couldn't shake his impatience. It had been almost three hours since they arrived. While the actors were able to wait in the cars, the snipers and him had to wait out in the open, having been dropped off by one of the look out teams who drove off to take their spot hidden from the road so as not to alert the slavers that something was about to happen.

Kevin was currently at his post inside a burnt out car that had been dragged into the field. Father Gabriel lay on top of a barn not too far from where Sasha and Daryl were. Daryl looked at their positions and could only spot either man when they moved from their posts to run in place to try to warm up in the cold. Sasha was running in place now beside him. He decided to join her and the nervousness he felt subsided a bit as he burned off energy.

The walkie crackled and they both stopped and listened. An SUV was travelling towards them from the east with an attached horse trailer. Four men were inside, Cody in the passenger seat.

"Here we go," Sasha said as Rick responded to the news, telling everyone to get ready.

The three captives were led out of the car and stood shivering in the cold. As instructed by Rick, they hadn't washed or combed their hair in the past four days. They had been covered in dirt and muck to make them look as downtrodden and as abused as possible. They all wore torn and tattered clothes, also stained with dirt. They didn't have anything on them to keep them warm. The captors stood around them with hand held weapons visible, guns hidden beneath their coats.

The other two snipers spoke over the walkies that they were ready and named their targets, Sasha also spoke and claimed the driver.

The wait for the vehicle to appear seemed to take forever although in reality it was about fifteen minutes. Daryl peaked around the side of the hay and saw the car slow to a crawl as it neared, possibly on edge at not recognizing the group that stood waiting for them.

When the slavers pulled up Rick stepped forward towards the passenger side and bent down to speak to the men inside. The story they were going to tell was that they took over the other group. Simple and to the point. They anticipated that the two young women and the boy would be too good an offer for them to quibble about small things like group takeovers.

The captives were presented to the slavers and Daryl heard a loud whistle as Liza turned around slowly, shaking in the cold. The men all stepped from the car, walking around the merchandise, grabbing at Liza.

Daryl saw their group maneuver themselves so they were not standing too close to the slavers.

"Time is now," Sasha spoke into the walkie before coming from around the bale, lining up her shot. Daryl watched her and her breathing slowed as she opened her mouth, letting the air release from there and not her nose. Her finger gripped the trigger and slowly squeezed

Gunshots rang out and three men dropped. Sasha kept her weapon up as she walked towards the road. Cody was being forced to his knees by Abraham and Liza, Lacy, and Carl were sent back inside their car to get warm.

The cars with the rest of the Alexandrians were driving up the road towards them.

Daryl walked up to Rick and the others. Cody was a man in his late fifties with white hair that was still thick on top of his head. He had a round stomach that heaved up and down with his ragged breath. His dark brown eyes stared angrily at their faces before looking away and moving to stare out at the distance.

"They are weighted down with weapons," Eugene said opening the back of the SUV. Daryl and Rick went to take a look. In the back area of the vehicle was a pile of guns. Rifles, pistols and revolvers. There were also boxes of ammunition.

Rick walked back to Cody and Daryl could hear him speaking to the man. "Cody my friend, we have so many questions for you." Cody didn't respond.

Abraham began to speak but Daryl didn't hear what Abraham said as he walked to the horse trailer and opened it. It was divided into two halves. One half was stuffed tight with supplies in stacked boxes. On the other, hog tied near the door, was a female walker. An Asian woman with matted hair laying on her stomach. The bones of her spine protruded out of her back like tall peaks. Her skin was a greyish blue under the slip she wore, there were bruises all over her body. She must have died on the journey. She squirmed and bit at him from around the gag in her mouth. Daryl sighed taking out his knife and gently putting it through the walker's head before dragging her out and resting her on the ground. Behind the woman was a another box. He crawled into the trailer towards it, noticing scratch marks on the walls and old blood stains spattered around.

He looked inside the box and his heart dropped. Laying naked and half frozen was a baby girl. Her limbs bone thin with a distended stomach, shivering fiercely in the freezing weather. The baby moved nothing but her eyes, which were large and brown and hollow. She was possibly the child of the walker he had just put down.

Daryl removed his coat and laid it on the floor. He put his hands under the emaciated body of the child and lifted her up, noticing she had sores on her back. He placed her in his coat and wrapped it around her. She didn't make a sound, only staring at him with her haunted eyes which she would close for a short while before opening them again. He wondered how long she had been starved and neglected before being sold to the slavers.

Clarke came up behind him and looked over his shoulder. Daryl turned to him, "get me some water. Warm water."

Clarke nodded, his eyes wide with shock at the sight of the girl and ran to the car he had been in.

Daryl stepped out the trailer and walked to where Rick was barking words at Cody who still looked out at nothing, not responding to anything said to him.

"Rick," Daryl called out. When Rick turned to face him Daryl held the baby up. A look of shock registered on Rick's face. He slowly ran his hand over his face and the sigh he gave told of his exasperation of the entire situation. Rick turned slowly back to Cody and kicked the man in his face, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Rick walked back over to Daryl and looked down at the baby, stroking her sunken cheeks with a finger. His blue eyes, full of sadness, looked over at his friend who clutched tightly to the child. "Daryl..."

"I know," Daryl said, not wanting to hear Rick voice how dire the baby's situation was. He tried to cover the baby more, watching her eyes that rolled lazily over his face.

Clarke ran over with the bottle of water and handed it to Daryl, all the while staring at the baby.

"Get her in the car. It may not be long and the heat will at least be a small comfort," Rick said, his voice soft. Daryl nodded. "We can ride back together. Alone."

Cody was tied and dragged to the back of the trailer, stripped of his warm clothes and placed inside in nothing but his underwear.

Daryl sat in the passenger seat of the vehicle and held the baby up and dribbled a few drops of water on her lips. Her dry lips parted a bit and her tongue feebly moved to send the water to the back of her throat. He could see she had a few teeth in her mouth already. He dribbled a bit more and she readily took it.

When Rick got in the SUV he called Abraham over. "Get this trailer off and hitch it to the truck. We're heading back now." Abraham peered at the bundle in Daryl's arms and his face reddened with rage. Rick reached through the window and grabbed Abraham's hand. "Don't kill him Abe. There may be more out there."

Abraham scowled but nodded.

Rick started the car as Daryl turned the air vent towards himself to warm the baby more. "You think the Doc could...," the look on Rick's face told him the truth of the matter. This little girl was probably not going to live for much longer.

"All we can do is try."

Daryl nodded and rubbed a finger along the child's face. As soon as the trailer was unhitched Rick drove off, going as fast as was safe in the snow.

"This is fucking depressing," Daryl finally spoke, placing the palm of his hand on the baby's chest to give her warmth and to keep an eye on her heartbeat. "You would think they would take better care of them in order to get a better trade."

Rick glanced down at the baby but said nothing.

The baby began to make a weak sucking motion with her mouth and Daryl gave her more drops of water.

"She's strong enough to suck," Daryl said. "Mickey just had a baby, you think she'd be willing to nurse her?" he looked over at Rick. "Is that allowed? Asking a woman to breast feed someone else's kid?"

Rick shrugged. "I don't know. It can't hurt to ask I suppose. She looks old enough to take solids but breast milk may be what she needs right now."

A bit of color had come back into the cheeks of the baby and her heart beat remained steady as she closed her eyes and didn't open them again. He needed her to hold on until they got to Alexandria. Even if she didn't make it, he'd prefer if she passed in a warm house instead of in the SUV of the men who were responsible for her condition.

* * *

"It's hard to say," Doc Dave told Daryl as he looked over the baby. "These bed sores will have to be dealt with. She hasn't been properly cared for. At all." Dave dipped his cloth back into the warm water and rubbed it along the legs of the baby. "If she feeds from Mickey that would be a good sign. If Mickey could feed her regularly for a week or two that would be even better."

Daryl had been rubbing the girl's small hand the entire time Dave bathed her. He tried to concentrate on keeping her alive and healthy, not allowing his mind to drift to what the slavers were planning on using her for.

Dave dried her gently and wrapped her in a towel. "I'll put ointment and some bandages on her sores." Dave sighed deeply. "She's going to need a lot of love and care but," he shook his head slowly. "I just don't know Daryl. I'm sorry."

Daryl took the baby and nodded. The door to the infirmary opened and Mickey stepped in. "Is that her?" Mickey asked quietly.

Daryl nodded and handed the girl to her. Dave pointed to the couch in the other room and they walked with her and watched as she sat and simply removed her shirt and placed the baby up to her full breast and slowly teased the girl's mouth with her nipple.

Daryl averted his eyes as Mickey seemed completely comfortable having her breasts out around he and Dave.

"She's sucking," Mickey whispered. "It's not as strong as Jerald, but she's doing it."

Daryl looked up and smiled at he saw the baby latched on and her hand in Mickey's, then he looked away again.

"Sorry," Mickey said. "I'm so used to thinking of them as food bags I forget." There was a rustling. "You can look, I'm covered."

Daryl looked again and saw she had covered her other breast with her shirt.

"Do you think you could do this for a while?" Dave asked Mickey as he came walked in the room with a tube of ointment and some bandages. "I think it's best if I keep her here for a while," he looked at Daryl, "just in case."

Daryl felt the full weight of that just in case.

"Yeah.," Mickey answered. "Maybe I can bring Jerald, feed them at the same time, make it easier for me. Will she need to feed at night?"

"I don't think so. Judging from her teeth, she's about ten or eleven months. She should sleep through the night."

Mickey nodded. "I'll be back tonight at around seven. Morning feeding's at five. Then it's every two or three hours after that."

Dave nodded. "That's fine. She'll eat. She won't be able to hold much at first but as time goes on, she'll get greedier. Hopefully," he added quietly but Daryl heard him and tried his best not to ignore the realities Dave was trying to tell him.

The door opened again and Harley rushed in. She stopped briefly when she saw Daryl leaning against the door jamb of the other room.

"Rick told me." Her face was sympathetic. Rick's exact words to her were 'the baby will most likely die.' "Are you okay?"

Daryl shook his head, "no." He tilted his head towards the room. "She's in there."

Harley stepped in the room and crouched before Mickey and looked at the little girl. Her eyes were closed and her lips sucked slowly at the woman's breast. The girl was so small swaddled in a towel. It broke Harley's heart to know she was found in the back of a horse trailer, starving, naked and cold. Her short life was already so cruel.

Harley brushed her finger along the girl's cheek and smiled weakly at Mickey as a hard breath came from the baby as she fought for the energy to feed.

Harley turned back to Daryl. "Rick's getting some clothes and diapers for her." Daryl nodded. "You got Cody?"

"Yeah."

Harley nodded, turning her attentions back to the baby. "I want to be there when you question him," she said, still focused on the girl, brushing her hair from her face and watching her struggle to stay awake so she could continue eating.

"I thought you wanted to stay outta this," Daryl said. The look Harley shot him made him take a step back. Her jaw was tight, her nostrils flared and her eyes were tight slits. She held his gaze until he said, "okay."

Harley turned away from him again. "She's gonna make you produce more milk," Harley said to Mickey.

"I'm gonna have to make sure to make note of which one she last used or I'm gonna end up lopsided," Mickey chuckled and Harley smiled at her. Mickey looked down, "looks like she's just about done."

The girl gave one last suck before her lips got slack and she let go of Mickey's nipple. Mickey handed the girl to Harley who held her close to her and stood up.

"Thank you Mickey," she looked at the woman as she placed her shirt back on.

"We have to do all we can," Mickey said giving Harley a squeeze on her shoulder. "I'll be back tonight."

"I need you to hold her while I deal with her back," Dave said as Mickey left.

Daryl came over and sat behind Harley who held the baby on her shoulder as Dave pulled the towel down from her back and began to clean the sores on the baby's back and place ointment on them.

"Do you wanna name her?" Daryl asked quietly.

"No." She didn't want to get attached to this little girl. She was unprepared to deal with the pain of thinking of this child as hers only to have her pass on.

"I think we should," he told her. "Even if the worst happens, she deserves to have a name."

Daryl caught Dave's eyes flick up to them before he started putting gauze on the girl's back, pretending not to listen.

"Okay. What names do you like?" Harley asked, feeling her chest tighten. The breaths the little girl took were so shallow and weak.

"I was thinking maybe Sophia."

"No." Harley said it so forcefully that Daryl sat up straight and Dave stopped moving.

"Why not?" He hadn't expected her to be so angry at his suggestion. He wanted to honour Carol's daughter and he thought Sophia was such a pretty name.

"I don't want to name her after a dead girl." Harley hadn't meant to sound so harsh but she did. "She's fighting for her life and it just seems wrong," she added, more softly, turning her head back to look at Daryl's sad eyes.

He nodded, feeling the rush of despair fill him thinking about losing yet another innocent child in this world. "What do you like."

Harley thought a moment. "Maybe a compromise. Not Sophia but what about Sophie?"

Dave looked between the two of them and nodded. "I think that's a fine name."

Daryl also nodded and kissed the girl on the top of her head. "Hey Sophie," he said. "We're gonna see to it you make it through this."

Harley exchanged a look with Dave. She didn't want Daryl to put all his faith in this only to have it all fall apart in the worst way possible. Dave gave a weak smile and he placed his hand on hers and squeezed. "She does have a chance."


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23 -

Cody sat in his chair at the interrogation table. Daryl and Abraham stood on either side of him, Kevin was behind him and Rick stood on the opposite side of the table next to Harley who sat staring unblinking at the man.

The cell that was built occupied the living room of the basement unit. The bedroom had been converted into an interrogation area. They hadn't had many prisoners at Alexandria. A few residents had been put in the cell after a hard night of drinking but that was mainly for their own safety as their drunken outbursts had caused more than a few other people to want to do nothing more than beat them bloody. The interrogation area had been used to question new arrivals, get a sense of how far gone they were. Most had been shuffled to the one room cabins where they waited for a week or two, getting much needed rest and respite from grueling survival. Some had ended up in the cell before being banished. Three had been killed after violent outbursts that had sent people to the infirmary, one with a deep knife wound another with multiple broken bones.

Cody wasn't speaking. He had thrown up the day before from the gut punch Abraham had landed on him during yet another round of questioning. The old man had taken it. He had taken the hits to the jaw, the kidneys, his spine. He had taken the slamming of his face against the wall which cost him a tooth and made blood drain from his mouth. The old man was tough and mean. Spitting his tooth out at them and laughing at their anger.

All Cody had said to them was that they could get a lot of goods for all the women in Alexandria before being returned to his cell.

Now he sat just as defiant, a cruel smirk on his face. "You're wasting your time. I ain't saying shit so just kill me already."

"No," Abraham told him. "We'll cut off all your limbs, peel your skin off, and drop you outside the walls. But we're not killing you."

Cody's eyes flickered as he looked at Abraham's smiling face.

"Well, not directly at least." Abraham's smile broadened.

Cody slithered his look to Harley. She had been waiting for it. She was the most vulnerable person in the room so she knew he would direct all his wrath and spew all his vile words at her. She steadied herself, preparing for it. Locking her eyes with his while shutting her ears to his words.

Had she not known what Cody had done, she never would have suspected him to be the cruel person he was. His eyes looked so gentle, his grizzled face like that of a kindly grandfather. When he smiled it was jovial, not menacing, not unless he wanted it to be. Evil men always had the best smiles.

"Who's this cunt," he spat out. He inched his body closer to the table, leaning in to speak to her. "You planning on sitting on my face or my dick sweetheart?"

Harley reached down and picked up the hammer on her lap and placed it on the table. She stood up and watched Daryl grab Cody's left arm and held it steady while Kevin grabbed him around his chest, holding him in the chair. Abraham grabbed Cody's right arm and pulled it to the table, placing it on the surface, splaying the man's fingers apart.

Cody tried to struggle. He was strong for an older man but no match for the three younger men holding him.

"My friend here is going to ask you some questions," she motioned to Rick whose nose flared in anger at the man. "Every time you don't answer I'm going to smash one of her fingers with this hammer." Harley picked up the Hammer.

"You think I'm scared you dirty black cooze," Cody shouted, still pushing and pulling against the men.

Although Harley's heart pounded in her chest, she was outwardly calm. His words trickled into her ears but she didn't allow herself to comprehend them. She was not going to allow this man to cause her to lose her control.

"When I finish smashing your fingers, I'm going to then cut them off. Then I'll move on to your toes. Then your wrists. Your ankles. So on and so on."

She tapped Rick lightly on his shoulders and nodded her head at him when he turned to face her.

Rick cleared his throat. "How many groups in this area do you get people from?"

"Fuck you," Cody spat.

Harley swung the hammer down on Cody's pinky, the sickening crunch of his bones shattering rang through the air and the man screamed, throwing his head back and panting heavily.

"You fucking bit-"

Harley broke the bones on Cody's ring finger and sweat broke out along the man's brows and he closed his eyes, looking as if he might pass out.

"You have eight more Cody. I would start thinking if I were you," Harley said evenly.

"How many groups in this area do you trade with?" Rick's voice was stern.

Cody puffed deep breaths in and out, then turned his head to the side and threw up on the floor. Harley wanted to swing the hammer again but thought better of it. So she waited with the rest as the man tried to compose himself.

"Six," Cody finally said. "There are six groups, including the one you already took out."

"Where are they? How big are they?" Rick flexed his fingers at his side. He looked like it was taking considerable effort for him to not start beating on the old man.

"If they find out I spoke," Cody began and Harley raised the hammer. "No wait. WAIT!"

Harley paused, but held the hammer ready.

"Some of these guys are crazy. If I didn't have the muscle I had...If they find out I told you, they'd kill me."

Rick chuckled. "Cody, you dumb fuck. We're going to kill you. You can decide if we kill you hard, like Abraham said, by peeling your skin off or if we kill you easy. A bullet to the head. But you're not getting out of this."

"But we can work something out. We can..."

Harley broke the bones in his middle finger and he screamed. His head slammed back into Kevin's stomach and his eyes squeezed together while he moaned and twitched.

For the first time it seemed to dawn on the old man that this was the end of the road for him. And he did not want to accept to that. He started to speak but looked at Harley and stopped. His head turned to face Abraham who merely nodded. Cody's shoulders slumped and a real fear entered his eyes.

"What do you do with the people you get?" Harley asked.

Cody turned his glistening eyes to her. "We take them to a camp in West Virginia," he stuttered out.

"And then what?" Daryl asked. He was surprised he didn't want to beat Cody himself, but watching the man get his fingers slowly crushed had been enough for him. Cody was trembling now and afraid. There was a deep satisfaction Daryl felt in knowing that.

"Some stay at the camp to work, to be companions, to breed. Others are sold further on."

"Further on where?"

Cody shrugged. "Don't know. Everywhere I guess. We just bring the people and they give us goods. It's a whole system. Spread out among many groups. We find a group of mostly men then strike a deal. Very few say no."

"And the people you had with you?" Harley spoke again. "The woman and the baby? Why'd you take them in those conditions?"

"Sometimes they look bad but the camp can fix them up."

"But you left them naked in a cold trailer," Harley raised her voice. How could he be so aloof about people? Real people with real feelings and real emotions. How could he place a baby naked in a box in a horse trailer like some inanimate object to be tossed about?

Harley's grip tightened on the hammer and she held the tool up to Cody's face. He shrinked back away from it. Harley turned the hammer so the claw faced him.

"See this," she touched the claw, running her fingers in the center of it where the nails hooked before being pulled out. "If that little girl dies, I'm going to rip your dick off with this." She angrily handed the hammer to Rick and stormed out.

* * *

Harley leaned on the door of the unit that housed the prison cell, shaking. She could still hear the sound of Cody's bones breaking ringing in her ears and her stomach rolled with queeziness. Was she turning into a monster torturing people, promising them death? The hard decisions they had been making in order to keep their small society going had been slowly changing her, all of them, and she wasn't sure if it wasn't for the worst.

Could they make their world safer without the blood shed, the killings? Were they ever able to have a safe world without those things? Was she too nostalgic about the world before to realise she was seeing it through rose tinted glasses?

She looked across the street to the infirmary where Dave continued to look after Sophie. As much as she tried not to, she found herself becoming attached to the baby. She would hold Sophie against her bare skin, to give her the warmth of human contact while reading books out loud to her, giving her the sensation of a person's voice. The first few times Sophie had tried to grab at her breasts, wanting to claim the milk she expected to come from them. But the little girl soon figured out Harley had nothing in the way of food to offer. Mickey was the food and Harley was the warmth.

Harley made her way over there, needing to be around something pure and good to wash away all the evil that was roaming the world. All the evil she was beginning to feel that she was slowing becoming a part of.

* * *

Rick placed the hammer in his belt and sat back down across from Cody who had been eyeing the tool the entire time Rick had held it.

"If things had happened differently, that woman who broke your fingers would have ended up in the back of your horse trailer," Rick told the man. Cody said nothing, but his mouth twitched as if he was battling his natural instinct to respond or maybe even smile.

Daryl now stood off to the side watching. They had released their grip on Cody after Harley stormed out. She had definitely made an impression on the man. His entire body was shaking and he seemed more than willing to have a conversation with them now.

"What did you do before all this Cody?" Rick asked him calmly.

"Retired vice cop," Cody answered.

Daryl watched Rick's face contort to disgust. "So running rackets isn't new to you?" Rick's voice was laced with venom.

"Made good money too," Cody seemed proud of this. Merle would have loved this guy.

"This is how we're gonna do things Cody. Tomorrow we take a ride and you show us where these groups are. You get to watch us kill your suppliers. You get to witness what we do to men like you." Rick stood up abruptly. "Wrap some gauze around his fingers. Get Doc Dave to patch him up and put him back in his cell."

"I need some painkillers." Cody called out to Rick as he reached the door.

"Give him some liquor. I'm not wasting medicine on him." Rick was gone then.

"Let's take him to the cell for now, I'm gonna get some cleaning supplies," Abraham placed his hand on Cody's shoulder and the man jumped. "Cody my friend, you're cleaning that fucking mess up and you better clean it good," Abraham motioned to the vomit on the ground. "Daryl, you get the doc and Kevin, keep an eye on him until we get back."

* * *

Daryl entered the infirmary to get something to hold Cody's fingers together. Dave was going through inventory and turned when Daryl entered.

"Doc, we need something temporary for crushed fingers," Daryl said walking further into the building.

"Which fingers?" Dave asked, a curious look on his face. When Daryl told him Dave began to pack a bag. "I'll attend to him."

"Rick don't want us wasting medicine on him. This guy is only being kept alive for as long as he's helpful. So liquor to dull his pain some spit and tape for his fingers"

Dave nodded. "Wait here. Harley's in the other room by the way." He took off upstairs to his living quarters.

Daryl opened the door to the waiting area and found Harley asleep on the couch, Sophie laying on her chest, both wrapped in a blanket. The little girl turned her eyes towards him and reached her hand out to him as he walked in.

"Hey little bit," he said as he walked to them and Sophie began to wiggle and flex her fingers, calling silently for him. "You wanna get picked up?"

Daryl scooped Sophie up and she rested her head on his chest and gripped at his shirt. She was still weak but not as emaciated as when he first found her. He kissed at her cheek and her mouth twisted in his direction. He kissed her other cheek and smiled as her mouth again twisted towards him.

"I think you're in love," Harley said sitting up.

Daryl swayed slightly as he held Sophie close to him, "I guess I am," he said watching Harley. They had yet to talk about Sophie and the fact that he wanted to keep her. Although Harley spent just as much time with the little girl as he did, making sure Sophie had as much contact with a caring person as possible, he wondered if she felt the same as him.

"Is she ours Harley?" he ventured. "Is she Sophie Dixon or..."

Harley sat up and gave a slight smile. "Yes Daryl, she's a Dixon."

"Are you in love?"

Harley closed her eyes a few seconds then looked back at him. "I'm scared Daryl. She's doing better but I can read what Dave won't say. She's still not out of the woods."

Sophie reached up and stroked Daryl's cheek and he melted. "She's gonna be just fine Harley. I can feel it. And if she's not, I'll never regret it. Not for one moment. And you shouldn't either. Everything now is bittersweet. Anything can happen to any of us but I'm not going to let it stop me from loving people or caring for them."

He handed Sophie to Harley when he heard Dave's footsteps on the stairs. The girl whined and turned her head to him. "I'mma be back baby, don't you worry."

As they walked out on the porch of the infirmary Daryl stopped Dave. "You're probably not gonna like what you see in there."

Dave eyed him, "I live in this world too Daryl. I once beat a man to death with the leg of a chair. I know how things go now." Dave patted the small bag he carried. "Cut up sheets, popsicle sticks and some cheap whiskey. I get it. I can't bring myself to care about people like him." Dave took off then down the steps and across the street to the townhouses.

Daryl stood watching him go down to the basement units and disappear. After so long he supposed it was difficult to find anyone who hadn't done something they would have never thought they'd do in the past. Difficult for anyone to not revert to some kind of barbarism. It got to the point where it wasn't seen as bad, immoral, something to overcome. It was the new value system. The line between good and evil had been moved, the terms right and wrong were changed.

He slowly walked down the steps to follow Dave.

* * *

The house burned, flames licking the sky, smoke filling the air and the screams of the men trapped inside broke the silence. The body of the guard in the snow could be seen in the fire light

They had come in the night, silently locking the men in as they worked quickly to eliminate them. Another trick Merle had taught Daryl was how to jam a door by sticking coins between the space between the door and the jamb. The slide up window had sticks embedded between the top of the window and the frame. Gasoline had been pumped on the house through a pressure water sprayer.

The Alexandrians had surrounded the home and waited. They had been staking out the compounds that Cody dealt with for over a week, watching and waiting to see if any victims were inside. Winter had made it difficult to find victims, the cold keeping most people hunkered down and unwilling to travel out in the open.

As the flames danced and spread the Alexandrans had taken aim. No one was going to make it out of that house. The group of fourteen men would all die by fire, by gunshot, however it was going to go for them.

A few men had broken the windows but were shot as soon as they began to climb out, their bodies falling back into the house. Then the real chaos began as those inside had to fight the flames and the walkers.

This was the second group they had burned that night. The first one hadn't gone as smoothly. The compound had been large and open. Molotov cocktails had been thrown at them, setting fire to various spots. The men had run out, shooting blindly into the night and had to be picked off one by one. A few had managed to escape but Daryl had was sure they had escaped to a certain death in the cold night. It had been snowing more and more as December crept up on them. With no supplies, those men weren't fated to last long exposed to the elements.

Daryl stood next to Rick who was holding Cody's head, making sure he was facing the punishment being dealt out by them. Cody's hands were tied behind his back, a gag in his mouth.

"Don't worry Cody," Rick whispered to him. "It'll go easier for you."

Cody stared with a rapt fascination at the scene. Daryl wondered if this man had any feelings at all for anyone other than himself. As the man's lips curled into a smile Daryl was taken aback by what he guessed was the joy Cody was getting watching his fellow slavers burn.

There was no more sound coming from the house, only the crackle of wood as it burned and the sound of bullets exploding in the flames.

As Rick pushed Cody into the car Daryl came up to him. "This isn't working like you thought it would," he said and Rick gave him a confused look. "He doesn't give a shit about what we're doing. He knows he's gonna go out easy and he's getting his last kicks before he goes. He ain't scared. He's fucking enjoying this."

Rick looked at him then turned to stare at Cody, smiling in the back seat of the car. "Yeah okay. Change of plans for the next house. Let's see how much he enjoys that."

* * *

Cody was screaming. The walker was tearing into his flesh on the porch of the third and last house they would hit that night.

While the house was being sprayed with gasoline Abraham had stood with his foot on the back of the guard whose neck he had broken. Growling could be heard from the walker as it clawed at Cody, who had been tied to the pillar of the porch.

Abraham's gun had been cocked and ready as he looked around before staring Cody down then smiling. "You like watching things burn?" Abraham had asked him. "You're gonna love this."

Daryl had poured gas on Cody. It dripped from his hair onto his face and shoulders, soaking into the fabric of the man's shirt as he screamed behind the gag in his mouth.

"It's done," Kevin had whispered walking up to them with the sprayer in his hand.

Daryl had taken off the gag and ran back towards the trees, Cody's loud cries for help following him. By the time Daryl had made it to his position the walker was biting into the man and his cries for help had dissolved into shrieks of pain.

A figure appeared at one of the windows and Daryl picked up the bow and arrow and took aim. "Light it," Daryl told Clarke whose left eye was shut due to the right hook he had received from the sole captive they had managed to rescue during this entire ordeal.

Clarke struck the match and held it the tip of the arrow setting it alight. More shadows crossed the windows as the coverings were pulled back to see what the commotion was. Daryl loosed the arrow and it struck the jerking Cody and he burst into flames just when his cries became garbled as his throat filled with blood.

Daryl nocked again and Clarke lit the tip once more. This time the shot hit the roof and he watch the flames crawl along the building. Windows were smashed and gunfire broke out. The front door was flung open and the flaming walker pounced, bringing the would be escapee to the ground, burning and feasting upon him.

* * *

The young woman glared at them as her body pressed into the wall of the cabin, trying to get as far away from them as she could. She had a bruised hand from where she had punched Clarke when he grabbed her by the arm to take her out of the house. She had also bit and kicked him, scratched his neck so bad she drew blood.

She had been rescued from a group not to far from them. Once she was spied, the Alexandrians went in, guns blazing, snipers perched behind the house shooting men through the windows. She had thought they were another group of slavers taking her to another location to be brutalized, humiliated, debased.

She had calmed somewhat when the women who had gone on the rescue mission surrounded her, armed heavily, encasing her in a circle of their bodies as she was led to a car where only they drove with her back to Alexandria, where she had passed out in the back seat from dehydration, exhaustion, and fear.

Justine and Harley had taken it upon themselves to engage her once she awoke. To reassure her, to convince her she was no longer in danger.

"I'm Justine," Justine told her softly as she rested pot of stew and pitcher of water on the table in the corner of the small cabin. Justine went to where the small kitchen area was and got a glass and bowl from the shelf above the wood burning stove and filled them. The woman eyed the food but didn't move. "We brought you clothes too," Justine continued, brushing her red hair from her face.

Harley rested the clothes next to the bowl. "There's a cast iron tub behind the curtain over there. There's already soap and clean towels. You'll have to boil some water from the pump to have a hot bath," Harley's heart broke for this woman whose eyes darted between them and the curtain to to the bathroom. She wore a ragged tank top and dirty jeans. Her arms were a map of bruises and her lip was swollen.

"Then what?" The woman's voice came out in a hoarse whisper. "You clean me up and then what?"

"We're not like that last group," Harley told her. "I was taken by another group too. I was supposed to be sold to the same people you were going to be sold to." Harley pointed to Justine, "she had to trade her body so her family could eat and have shelter, until she came here."

The woman scoffed. "So you do all this and ask for nothing in return? You're all so fucking benevolent?"

"No, you'll have to work here too," Justine told her, taking a seat at the table.

"On my back?"

"No." Harley sighed and took a seat next to Justine. "We have a lot of jobs here. Most of them need more people to fill their roles. We need farmers, seamstresses, canners, butchers, medical staff, teachers, carpenters, a probably things we have yet to think of."

The woman was quiet, still eyeing the bowl of stew but making no move towards it.

"At least eat if nothing else," Justine said, pushing a chair out to her. Justine then took the spoon and scooped out some broth and took it in her mouth. "I understand your apprehension but it's not poisoned."

The woman walked slowly to the table, her eyes moving between Harley and Justine. With her foot she moved the chair as far away as possible from the two of them before sitting down and taking the bowl and eating quickly. When she finished Justine scooped some more stew out for her while the woman drank down the water.

"I'm a nurse," she said, her voice still a whisper. "I was a nurse. Worked at the hospital in D.C. In the emergency room."

"We could use a nurse. Our doctor was a dentist. He does a good job but could use the help."

A disatisfied look came over the woman. "I don't wanna work with no man," she said.

Harley and Justine looked at each other briefly. Harley couldn't blame the woman. After what she went through, it would be hard to imagine she would be trusting of men.

"He's a good man. His name is David and..." Justine tried to explain.

"I don't want to work with any fucking man," the woman spat out.

"Okay, okay. We understand. But there are men here. It was men who helped get you out of that house and killed those men. Our men are going out tonight to kill the other known slavers in the area. They are going to kill the man who was going to buy you."

The woman glared at Justine, her mouth tight. "And where is here?"

"Alexandria," Justine answered, reaching over and pouring another glass of water for the woman.

"The safe zone?" The woman's eyes widened and both Harley and Justine nodded. "We saw this place a while ago. Mike and me. There was a lot of work going on but we decided to not come at first. We were wary of groups. Then winter came and food ran low. We were trying to make our way here when..." her voice trailed off.

"What is your name?" Harley asked her, wanting to take her mind off the idea of living in a compound with men that she now had a great fear of.

"Melissa."

"And Mike was your partner?"

Melissa nodded tears falling, a far off look on her face. "We were the last of our group. Now I'm the last."

Harley knew that sensation of being the last one standing all too well. It was a lonely, desperate feeling. Not knowing how long you'll last on your own, the deafening silence that was only interrupted by the sounds of the dead. The weariness of joining a new group.

"Melissa?" Harley leaned towards the woman. "We're going to let you remain in this cabin, alone, for a week or more if necessary so you can get some much needed rest. We'll bring you food you can cook yourself, we'll show you how to get water from the pumps, light your own fires and give you your space." Melissa got another bowl of stew as she listened. "There are sentries on the wall. They will not come in down from the parapet you see but if you need us, you can let them know and they'll come get us."

"How many people you got here?" Melissa asked, seemingly done with eating for now.

"I think almost sixty."

"How many women?"

"More than half are women."

Melissa nodded, looking around. "And if I wanted to leave?"

"We can't stop you from leaving but I would strongly advise against it."

There was silence once more. All three woman looked at the table or the floor but not at each other. Melissa seemed to be softening however. She was less jumpy, less hostile but still on guard. Harley could understand the skepticism. What they were doing here at Alexandria, with the Federation, was something new. A rebuilding of a kind of civilized society, something as similar socially to the past as they could get. Harley could hardly believe it herself if truth be told, but she would forever be grateful for it.

"Can I meet him?" Melissa finally spoke.

"Who?" Justine asked.

"This doctor of yours. Can I meet him?" Melissa looked at them both, the fire gone from her eyes. "Not today, but in a few days?"

"Of course. Right now you're in a sectioned off area, for our safety if I'm honest. But we'll come back in a few days and let you see where you are and you can decide if you want to stay or leave."

"Thank you," Melissa said. "Thank you," fresh tears fell from her face as she wept.

* * *

Melissa hesitated as she walked out of the closed off section where the cabins were. She was wearing layers of sweaters that bulked up her small frame as well as a thin jacket.

"We'll walk you around the outer wall before we take you inside to where we all live," Harley told her walking towards the western part of the compound.

They pointed out where the fields for farming were going to be, the schoolhouse where the library, records room and recreation area was. They explained the plans they had for the future, showing her the incomplete water towers being built, the house where canning was going to take place, the cellar for grain storage.

On the southern side they walked through the barns that held the horses, the cows, the chickens and turkeys. Melissa stayed a while by the rabbit cages, playing with them, rubbing a small one against her skin. She seemed to get a bit of joy playing with them. Justine told her gently that the rabbits were food but Melissa didn't seemed bothered by it. She asked if she would be allowed to keep one. Harley couldn't see why not but it would seem strange to have a pet when you were also eating its relatives.

They bypassed the butchers area, not wanting to introduce Melissa to George so soon. While he was a good man, with his hulking frame and brusk speech, he might trigger something in the woman who had looked warily at any man they had passed on their tour.

On the eastern side they took her to the new house for the pantry where she would be able to not only get rations of food, but also clothing, bed clothes, and small household supplies. They pointed out the weapons armoury, Eugene's new bullet factory and the sawmill where all the hardware supplies were also stored.

Back at the north side they walked through the gate of the inner wall and Melissa stopped. She stared around in wonder at how the people here lived.

"It's just like before," she said starting to walk again, her eyes watching the kids near the lake playing in the snow and others in the community going about their business.

"There's electricity, running water, working toilets," Justine said smiling at her. "That's where I live my husband and kids," Justine pointed out her house. She then pointed to Harley's, "that's where Harley lives with her husband and two boys. The one you punched, that's Harley's boy."

Melissa looked abashed. "Sorry," she whispered out. "I didn't know-"

"It's okay Melissa. He's okay," Harley put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Are you ready to see the infirmary and meet David? We call him Doc Dave sometimes, or just Dave."

An uncertain look came over Melissa but she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Yeah."

"If you're not ready, you don't have to," Justine assured her.

"No, I'm ready. I want to meet him. If I don't feel comfortable, I'll choose another area to go to. Maybe seamstress."

Inside the infirmary there was no one. Harley called out to Dave who answered from upstairs and made his way down with Sophie in his arms. The girl smiled and reached for Harley who took her and snuggled her close.

"I want to talk to you and Daryl as soon as I can," Dave said smiling at the other women.

"Melissa," Harley walked over to her with the baby. "This is Sophie. We found her with those men. Dave's been a true miracle worker for us, bringing her back to health."

Melissa reached out and Sophie took her finger and tried to bite it, laughing when Melissa pulled it back and tapped her on her nose.

"You and your husband gonna take her?" Melissa asked, making a funny face at Sophie.

"Yeah." Harley turned to Dave. "This is Melissa."

Dave's face perked up. "The ER nurse," he held out his hand. "I am very pleased to meet you."

Melissa looked down at Dave's hand and after a long pause she gingerly shook it.

"Well," Dave said looking around the room. "As you can see we have enough beds to house four patients. There are three bedrooms upstairs, one which is mine and the rest for long term recovery. We don't get too many daily calls but sometimes, when it rains it pours. It's kind of like nineteenth century medicine in here. I've been exploring herbal remedies for minor things and they seem to work fairly well. I try to go easy on medication, even past the expiration they can still work if not as well, but then again you know all that."

Melissa nodded at him, looking around, not saying a word.

"We should have a formal meeting to discuss procedures and I know there's a lot of things you could teach me especially with trauma cases. I've had one amputation so far and a few knife wounds and broken limbs."

"Where did you get all this stuff?" Melissa was looking at the items behind the glass doors of the shelves along the wall. She tested the hospital beds and checked out other items laying around.

"We cleared out a hospital a few months back. Split everything between the three groups. The garage has been converted into an operating theater. In the bedroom on the ground floor is where I do dental work. So we can do a trade off. I show you basic dentistry, you show me proper medical procedure." Dave smiled at her but she did not return the same. He cleared his throat. "I was thinking we can switch out weeks doing day shifts while the other is on emergency night calls. Anything major comes up, we both work together."

Melissa stopped and looked at Harley and Justine. "Am I going to live here too."

"It won't be a problem for me," Dave said. "I can move the dental office upstair and you can get the master." Melissa did not look at all pleased at the idea of sharing a living space with David. "Or you can take one of the single basement units in townhouses just across the way. We'll just set up some sort of system where I can call you if I need you in an emergency." Dave smiled again and this time Melissa gave a tiny smile of her own. "When do you think you'd be ready to start?"

Melissa didn't answer but looked at the ground for a moment, contemplating seriously what it was she wanted and possibly how she felt. "Maybe another week?" She looked between the three other people in the room.

"That sounds good. We'll start fresh the Monday after next. 9 a.m. sharp. Take a look around, I'll give you a pen a paper and you can make notes of any questions, concerns, ideas you have and we'll discuss them all. I am not expecting you to be my assistant, but my partner. We'll find someone else to be our assistant. That sound good to you?"

Melissa nodded, smiling again. "Thank you David."

"No problem." He walked over to a desk and removed a writing pad.

When Melissa finished her note taking they took her to the basement units and showed her the unit on the end. Melissa walked around the sparsely furnished unit. She pushed on the cushions of the couch, poked through the kitchen, and like Harley had done, turned the light switches on and off and put her head in the refrigerator.

The single bedroom held a bed with a bare mattress and small dresser.

Justine ran a finger along the dusty dresser. "Gonna need to clean up in here, but it's nice, with a private garden out back."

Melissa walked to the sliding doors that led out to the small garden that was fenced around with lattice. She turned back to face Harley and Justine. "This is all mine?"

Harley nodded.

"And all I have to do is contribute and follow the rules? No sexual favors with the leader or his men?"

"The leader would lose his head at the end of his wife's sword if he ever thought about anything like that," Harley said. "And we're all his men. Everyone here fights. The living, the dead. We all train. Some are dedicated fighters, like Justine here who's on full time guard duty and others like you and me, have other jobs and fight when necessary to protect our home."

"And this is my home?"

"If you want it to be."

"I want it to be," Melissa opened the door and stepped into the garden.

Harley walked out behind her and stood next to the woman. "Then welcome to Alexandria Melissa. Welcome home."

* * *

 **A/N: I just want to say thank you to all of you who are sticking with me through this tale. I'm getting ready to wind everything down. I think there are only 5 or so more chapters left.**

 **If you like Dasha tales, check my new story After the Fall.**


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: Sorry for the long delay. I've been out of sorts and haven't been writing much. Need to get better. Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

Chapter 24 -

Daryl beamed. Sophie bounced up and down on his thighs as they sat in the infirmary with Dave going over her prognosis. She had put on weight, she was more energetic, she was babbling, trying to crawl and over all better.

"I suspect she had been doing well before she was taken. She's a bit behind, but not by a lot and I'm sure it will all start coming back to her in the coming weeks," Dave told them. "And she's ready to go home." Dave smiled at the baby. "I'm going to give you some baby vitamins to give her since she'll no longer be on breast milk. She can take cows milk but it's no substitute for breast or formula."

Dave went to one of the cupboards and pulled out a bottle and handed it to Daryl. "Congratulations," he said, "it's a girl."

Sophie squealed. "Yeah Little Bit, you're coming home," Daryl told her while Harley sat beside him in a slight state of shock. Daryl looked at her and frowned. She had seemed so taken with Sophie, visiting her even more than him. She had even stayed the night at the infirmary a few times with Sophie wrapped tightly in her arms. Now she looked almost frightened by the idea of actually taking her into their home. "You all right?"

"It's all...," Harley stumbled out. "I'm a mommy Daryl." It had all in an instant became real. Sophie would no longer be the baby she spent time with at the infirmary, the one she left behind with Dave when she went home at night. She was now coming home with them, would be fully dependent on them. Would call her mommy and look to her for protection and warmth and comfort and love. She would pick up her mannerisms, her speech patterns, and may one day turn out to be a lot like her. It was an overwhelming feeling.

He chuckled and leaned over to give her a kiss. Not wanting to be left out, Sophie opened her mouth and placed it against Daryl's cheek, getting her saliva all over him. "You've been a mommy for a while Harley, only now your baby's coming home. You shouldn't be nervous. She loves you. She only reaches for me when you're not around or asleep. Our family's growing," he reached over and rubbed at her stomach. "Maybe it could grow more."

Harley slapped his hand away and took Sophie from him. "Tell me how you feel after you witness her first meltdown." She nuzzled her face against Sophie. "Huh, how's daddy gonna feel the first time you show him what those lungs can do?"

"She won't have no meltdowns. She's an angel." Daryl wiped his face on his shoulder and kissed the baby. "My sweet little angel." Sophie smiled at Daryl then clung tighter to Harley.

That night Sophie screamed, her face reddening in fury at the torment of her life. They had tried giving her a bottle of cow's milk now that Mickey was no longer available to breastfeed. She had looked curiously at it before allowing them to slip the nipple past her lips. Then the whimpering had begun. The bottle and cow's milk was a poor substitution to Mickey's breast.

Daryl had suggested just scrapping the milk altogether but the moment the bottle would be placed down Sophie would whimper and reach for it and begin another round of howls.

Harley walked back and forth between the kitchen and living room, bouncing Sophie, trying to calm her. When the girl's crying would die down Harley would try giving her the milk again. Sophie would take a few sucks then push the nipple out with her tongue and start screaming all over again.

Daryl sat on the couch looking shell shocked. Before he had been trying to talk to her, coo at her and get her to take to bottle. He had given up after the fifth try, a solid forty-five minutes after the first outburst.

"Come on Sophie, drink the milk," Harley pleaded on another walk around the kitchen island and back into the living room. She handed the bottle to Daryl. "Heat this back up for your little angel," she told him.

"She's my hell's angel," he mumbled taking the bottle back to kitchen.

Harley held Sophie under her arms and spun around the living room singing a song to which Sophie responded by tossing her head back and howling louder, kicking her little legs beneath her in some futile attempt to run out of Harley's arms.

"Oh the humanity," Evan declared loudly from the top of the steps before descending . "Did they take your boobies away?" he asked Sophie, taking her out of Harley's hands. "Did these mean old people take away your boobies?"

Sophie calmed a little in Evans arms whimpering and pointing at Harley in accusation. Evan took the newly warmed bottle from Daryl and lay Sophie in his arms. "Mmmmm, milk Sophie," he said, shaking the bottle at her. He held the bottle to his mouth and sucked on it. "Yummy milk." Sophie quieted and watched Evan drink from the bottle. "You want some?" He placed the nipple near her mouth. "Huh baby, you want some?"

Daryl and Harley watched with bated breath as Sophie opened her mouth and took the nipple and sucked. She protested a little then began to suck some more, taking a deep breath as she calmed and accepted the milk.

Evan beamed at them, proud he had been able to accomplish in five minutes what they couldn't after almost an hour of trying.

"Huh," Daryl scoffed. "We softened her up for you."

Harley went over and stared down at Sophie, stroking her hair. The little girl glared at her, still angry at Harley and Daryl's betrayal. When Evan handed Sophie to her the girl began to protest before continuing to gobble her bottle of milk, her angry eyes getting heavy.

"We need a crib for her," Harley whispered.

"I'll have to see what Lionel would want for that. For now, she'll sleep with us." Daryl leaned down to kiss the little girl on her forehead. "God knows this little banshee's got me tired as hell."

Harley giggled as she tempted fate and pulled at the bottle in the sleeping girl's mouth. Sophie whimpered and took a few half hearted sucks. Harley decided it was in their best interest to just leave it there until it fell from her mouth naturally. "You think this is bad, wait until the terrible twos."

"We've dealt with worse."

Harley raised her eyebrows. "I don't know. That look you had on your face tonight..."

"Stop."

"Thought you would start hitting the bottle."

"Don't tease me," Daryl leaned forward and kissed her.

"We could ask Dave to give you a bottle of Valium. You know, just in case."

"Har har," Daryl said dryly. "Just come to bed."

* * *

Everyone at Alexandria was working overtime. Rick had guaranteed them the much needed break they had been promised back when they took down the Saviors to begin in the middle of January. A glorious four weeks where they would have to do nothing other than guard the walls. No cutting, no building, nothing.

Harley spent her days in the library. She was brought back to her old life of order, codes, and the safe feeling of knowing exactly how things were supposed to be, where they were to supposed lay. She worked on auto pilot, almost robotic in the system of organizing books by subject, author, name.

Olivia had written a census of every person living in Alexandria. Who they lived with, where, their relationship to one another, their occupation. The first birth certificate for Jerald, Mickey and Tim's son, was filed away. The first baby born behind the walls. He had no idea how special that designation was and wouldn't for a long time. The informal adoption record of Sophie was also there as well as a book listing the names of everyone behind the wall that had passed on and how they died.

When she had time, Harley would write her notes of the stories of survivors out in longhand, hoping to find some way to put the tales in some sort of order, a kind of theme, to tell a coherent story for all those others who would be born in the years to come.

She had been corresponding with Cola at the Kingdom for the last month. He had given up his ambitions of ruling the Kingdom after Ezekiel and took on the same job as her. He began keeping records, organizing the history of the Kingdom and also getting stories before the fall from fellow survivors. He would send her copies of their heartache, fear, joy, and sometimes, redemption. She would send back notes to get more information. When he was able to, he would comply and update her.

Daryl had reluctantly agreed to allow Cola to stay with them after they sowed the field with crops in the spring so he and Harley could start putting their stories together.

Sophie was left in the care of Meredith along with Judith, sometimes Mickey dropped Jerald off for a few hours to give her a chance to get a few hours of sleep. While Sophie adored Judith and would try in vain to do everything the older girl could do, she had taken a serious dislike to baby Jerald. Daryl surmised it had to do with the fact that Jerald was able to get Mickey's milk while she was not.

The first time the little girl had seen Mickey again she tried to run out of Daryl's arms into Mickey's. Harley told her as gently as possible that Mickey's milk belonged to Jerald and he had been kind enough to share it with her but Sophie was having none of it. She reached out and whined, begging for Mickey to pull her breast out and give her her milk. Mickey's husband Tim had chuckled and quipped to Sophie, "I know how you feel kid. I can't get any of it either."

Her evenings were spent in the office of the house, typing up notes and accounts of the events she witnessed since arriving at Alexandria. She found she needed to get the perspective of others so as not to cloud the truth of what happened or to get different interpretations of what had occurred. Sophie would crawl around her feet or pull herself up, demanding Harley pay attention to her and give her praise for standing for all of two seconds on her own before crashing down on her bottom.

While her days and evenings kept her busy, her nights kept her alone. She would lay in bed waiting on Daryl to return but more often than not would fall asleep before he did. His days were spend in Rick's living room with the rest of a special committee as they worked out ideas to form a real tangible government of Alexandria. Sometimes she was called to take notes or write letters to the Kingdom and the Hilltop with questions, ideas, suggestions. Forming a government was complicated. Forming an alliance with the other groups even more so.

Some nights she would lay on the couch, Sophie asleep on a blanket on the floor, in an effort to wait up for him. Only a few times was she able to. He was coming in at the early hours of the mornings. One, two, three o'clock, exhausted. More often than not she would awake in his arms as he carried her to the bed, where they would lay holding each other for a while before he would go and bring Sophie to the bed and crawl in, with the baby between them, too tired to do anything more than try to snuggle with them both before falling into a deep sleep only to start again early the next morning.

Rick had limited their meeting to Mondays through Friday. Saturdays found Daryl drifting from area to area, assisting where he could. She only had him Sundays. They spent it in bed until mid afternoon. They played with Sophie, giving her all the attention she could ever want while stealing kisses behind her back because if she saw she got jealous and would chastise them with short screams or push their faces away from one another. Sometimes she would concede but only if she could press her face between theirs and get the kisses for herself.

Tonight though, Harley lay with Sophie cradled in her arms determined to be up when Daryl reached. If Sophie had a crib she would have placed the girl in there and waited naked on the bed for him. As it were, Lionel didn't have enough time to devote to building the bed as he worked steadily to cut down almost all of the trees bordering Alexandria while the cold kept the walkers at bay. She had traded her doe hide for Sophie's crib, which she found fitting. The day she took down the doe set into motions the circumstances that led the little girl to them.

For the entire day her mind drifted to him. They hadn't been intimate since before they had been taken by the slavers. That was almost six weeks ago. She missed the feel of his hands exploring her body, his mouth on her skin, his manhood deep inside her. She couldn't remember the last time she even felt his tongue in her mouth. As soon as he got in, she would drag him into the bathroom and delve into the pleasure she always received from him.

* * *

What Rick was trying to do was beyond ambitious. They weren't like the men who had built America. They weren't the sons of landowners, the upper class who were educated at top schools or by private tutors. They were average, everyday people. Michonne was more than likely the most educated amongst them and even with her legal knowledge, the vast idea of making a government of a new country, even one so tiny it held less than one hundred people, was completely overwhelming.

Michonne and Elle, who had been political science major in college before giving up her dreams of politics to pursue her passion and become a baker in her old life, worked at coming up with a workable governing system for Alexandria as well as the Federation. They wrote extensively to Ezekiel as well as Maggie, Glenn and Morgan at the Hilltop, trading ideas and working slowly to come together in some sort of accord.

Rick and Daryl, in the meantime, worked on establishing laws for Alexandria. Daryl never realised how much detail they would have to go into. He had expected simple things; don't steal, don't rape, don't murder, but there was so much more.

He sat on Rick's couch, his head swimming after going through another long session with the immediate group, which included him, Rick, Michonne, Elle, Abraham, Lacy, Aaron and at times Sasha, whose main concern was fire safety. He was the last one left at the house. Michonne had gone to bed with Judith and Rick brought him a glass of Kingdom beer and sat next to him with his own glass.

Rick was looking ragged as of late, he had become so obsessed with leaving a lasting legacy on this place, on this time. He had even admitted to keeping a diary for the last few months, writing of his daily events, his thoughts and hopes for the future, his fears.

The men sat silently in the dim light, not speaking, both lost in thought.

"I never got a chance to ask you," Rick broke the silence, "how are things at home? With the kid? How's Harley taking to motherhood?"

"Like a duck to water," Daryl said. "It's good. Noisy, but good. All she has to do is smile at me and I melt. It's strange you know. It's only a little over a month and I can't imagine life without her."

"I think back to what Deanna told me when we first got here. She said she envied Judith because she'd get to see what this place would become. I didn't understand her then, but I do now." Rick smiled a little. "I think all of us doubted this place when we first got here. We were even planning on taking it over by force. God, that seems like a lifetime ago."

"In a way it was. Glenn and Maggie are gone to the Hilltop, Rosita's at the Kingdom. You and Michonne are together and having a kid. I got married and just got a daughter," _and Carol is dead_. "We've built a village and now we're working to ensure it can grow into a whole country if possible. We've been through hell and back to get here." Daryl drained his glass of beer. "Fucking hell and back," he repeated softly. He looked over at Rick who was absentmindedly nodding his head. "You ever think about them? All the people we've lost along the way?"

"Sometimes. I have spells where I dream about them. Sometimes so vivid I wake up crying."

Daryl fought the lump that was growing in his throat, the pain that was tightening around his heart as he suddenly ran through memories of everyone on the mountainside. Those who died during the attack when they had gone to rescue Merle. Amy, Jim. Jacqui, Shane, T-Dog, Andrea, Merle. All gone. "Do you ever feel guilty? Surviving?" Rick only stared not answering. "Sometimes I wonder why me? What did I do right that they didn't?"

"I don't know the answer to that. Survivors remorse? I guess you just have to accept that you survived and make your life count. Don't waste what time you have left here. Don't take it for granted. Make it count and honor the dead."

They both went quiet again. Daryl mulled Rick's words, thinking of all the graves they dug and left behind with the bodies of their friends inside. Those graves were a world away in another land, in another life. Those were times of constant fear and fighting for resolve. Now he lived in a land of hope and futures and freedom from the unending crush of the dead and people who thrived on the destruction of the world.

He wished Hershel were still there. He'd be able to give Daryl sound advice and allay these thoughts he was having with some wise words.

* * *

Daryl found himself squinting against the bright rays of the sun hitting his face. He was still on Rick's couch with a pillow under his head and a blanket on him. There was clattering coming from the kitchen and he sat up and saw Michonne with Judith on her hip packing a bag.

"Shit," he mumbled. "What time is it?" he called out to Michonne.

"Almost seven."

"Fuck," Daryl shot up. Harley would be up and wondering where the hell he was. "Chonne, I gotta head home. I'll be back in an hour or two. Or I'll be dead," he added, putting on his shoes.

The house was quiet when he walked in. Evan would be working with Lionel while Clarke busied himself working with Eugene on producing natural energy. He took a deep breath before opening the door to the bedroom.

Harley lay sound asleep with Sophie sitting up next to her, mesmerised by her own little hands. The moment he walked in she crawled towards the edge of the bed before plopping back down and pointing to the sleeping Harley and then reaching out for him.

Daryl picked Sophie up, planting a solid kiss on one of her fat cheeks. "Mama didn't get up Little Bit? You hungry?" He carried the girl into the kitchen and fixed her a bottle of milk which she drank while he struggled to crack an egg for her breakfast.

"Did you stay out all night?" Harley was behind him.

He turned around to face her, holding the egg up. "You want to take the baby or fix the breakfast?"

"I'll fix the breakfast," she took the egg from him.

"I fell asleep on Rick's couch," he eyed her to gauge her reaction but she busied herself making breakfast for Sophie. "You mad?"

"Nope."

"You just gone believe I was at Rick's? No questions asked?"

Harley looked at him quizzically, "Where the hell else would you have been?"

"I could have been with another woman. Sneaking in in the early hours after a night with my other girl."

Harley chuckled and rolled her eyes, "yeah right."

"You don't think I could go out tom catting?" This time Harley threw her head back and laughed loudly, feeling left out of the joke Sophie also began to laugh around her bottle. "You too Little Bit? I'm a good looking guy, the ladies like me."

Harley calmed her laughter and fixed him with a feigned serious look. "Were you out tom catting with your other woman?"

"Oh shut up, you know that I wouldn't do that, but it'd be nice for you to get a bit jealous."

Harley smiled at him, "would it make you feel better to know that I was waiting up for you. Hoping to get lucky."

He moved closer to her, a smile forming on his face. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I miss you baby," she made her voice as husky as she could without being overly dramatic.

Daryl smiled and leaned over to kiss her neck. "It's been a while hasn't it?" He ran his hand down her back to her ass and squeezed. "Just two weeks left before work shuts down."

"I don't want to wait two weeks," Harley pouted as she put the eggs on a plate. Sophie dropped her bottle on the floor and grabbed for the plate of eggs, whining when Harley moved passed her to set it down on the dining table.

Daryl handed Sophie to Harley once she was seated and sat down across from her with a deep sigh. "Things have gotten kinda outta whack huh?"

"A bit."

"Been a lot going on. The unpleasantness, Sophie, doing double time before the winter break. I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted by the time I come home not to mention we got a baby in the bed with us."

"Yeah, we need that crib," Harley kissed the top of Sophie's head as the little girl chewed her eggs, stuffing her fingers into her mouth to help hold the food in.

Daryl stood up, "yeah. Lionel promises he's working on it but slowly. I promise you though, as soon as the break begins, I'll make it up to you and then some." He leaned down to give her a kiss, moaning at the feel of her tongue as she grabbed his neck and held him there. He felt the distinct slaps of Sophie as she gurgled out her disapproval before pulling back and planting a loud kiss on one of her fat cheeks. "I didn't forget 'bout you Little Bit," he smiled. "I gotta go wash up and head out. I'll be home tonight."

"No visit to your lover then," Harley said trying to suppress a smile.

Daryl paused and cupped her face in his hand, rubbing his thumb along her cheek. "Two weeks baby. I'll make all this up to you in two weeks."

She leaned her face into the warmth of his palm, "promise?"

He ran his thumb over her lips and leaned down for another kiss. "I promise."

* * *

"She invited you to dinner? To apologize?"

Harley caught the tail end of a conversation Evan and Clarke were having in the kitchen as she walked through the door, placing Sophie on the ground so the girl could crawl around on the floor.

"Who invited who to dinner?" she asked, keeping a keen eye on the roaming child in the living room.

"Melissa invited Clarke to dinner to apologize for beating his face in when he was trying to rescue her," Evan responded.

"Oh, that's nice of her," Harley rushed to pull Sophie away from the fireplace. "When is your date."

Clarke's eyes widened as his lips twitched as a look of embarrassment came over him. "It's not a date," he mumbled. "Just dinner. A thank you."

"He's a gonner," Evan said. "In over his head, madly infatuated. Look at him," Evan pointed to Clarke. "Look at that absolutely stupid look on his face."

Harley chuckled. "He does look pretty dumb. Not as dumb as you do when you pop up at Meridith's pretending you're there to visit with Sophie."

"I will not stand by such slander," Evan smiled. "You think she noticed?"

"She'll notice more if you just asked her to spend some time with you instead of using poor Sophie as your wingman." Harley handed Sophie to Evan and went to grab plates to set the table for the meal Clarke was cooking. "Are you cooking for her?" Harley called out to Clarke.

Clarke shrugged. "She invited me so I guess she's cooking."

"You should cook. Or at least help. Great way to have a first date."

"It's not a date."

"Clarke, she invited you to dinner at her place. Alone. I know for a fact that she already apologized to you and said thank you. I know for a fact you can't pass the infirmary without her coming out to say hello. And I know for a fact that you pass the infirmary every day even though you have absolutely no reason to. It's a fucking date."

Clarke fought hard not to smile. "I don't think she's ready for all that."

"Let her tell you what she's ready for. You and Dave seem to be the only men she's comfortable around. Except she doesn't look at Dave the way she looks at you," Harley added with a wink.

Evan let out a low whistle. "Man. So what about Meredith? She giving off any vibes?"

"Hush," Harley said to him taking Sophie from Evan when the girl began to stretch towards her. "This is about Clarke, not you." She turned to Clarke, "when is this going to happen?"

Clarke shrugged. "Sometime during the break. She has to check her schedule for her days off. We're meeting later this week to discuss it." Clarke balked at the wide smile spreading across Harley's face. "You look like my mom did before my senior prom."

"I just always thought spring brought out love, guess it's winter now," Harley shrugged.

* * *

Harley's eyes opened to moment she felt Daryl get into bed. She reached out and grabbed his arm, careful of Sophie who was tucked into the curve of her body as she lay on her side. "What time is it?"

"Not too late. Maybe eleven." Daryl turned on his side facing her, moving as close as he could get to her without crushing the small child between them. He leaned over and gave her a kiss on her forehead. "Did you know Clarke has a date with Melissa?" Harley nodded in the dark. "He kept saying she only wanted to thank him but didn't she already do that?"

Harley nodded again. "That boy is more clueless than you. I mean, if you can pick up on that, there's no hope for him."

"Har har," Daryl lay on his back and picked Sophie up and placed her on his chest. "Come here," he said to Harley, wanting her to lay in the crook of his arm. Once she settled in he began rubbing her shoulders, "work ends Friday and Saturday I'm kicking everyone out the house."

"Oh really?"

"Yep. Told the boys they're not allowed back until Sunday evening. Sophie's gonna spend the night with Judith and you and me are gonna have a entire evening and morning alone together."

"Where are to boy's gonna go?"

Daryl shrugged, "they can sleep by the lake for all I care."

"Daryl!"

He chuckled and kissed her forehead. "Abraham said they can use their spare room for the night."

"So what do you have planned Mr. Dixon?"

"Well Mrs. Dixon. A nice dinner prepared by Clarke to go with some nice wine I got off Aaron, followed by stripping you naked and laying you down on that rabbit skin rug."

"Can't wait. I hope you have a lot of energy, got a lot of time to make up for."

"Two months. Oh, Lionel says the crib should be ready on Thursday. He just has to sand it and paint it."

"You think she'll sleep in it?"

"She might not fall asleep in it but she'll be waking up in it." Daryl gave a deep satisfied sigh. "This feels good. Laying here with my ladies in my arms, being able to talk to you. Haven't done that in a long ass time."

"We've had a big shake up but things will settle soon. Everyone's gonna get their bearings during the break."

"Yeah."

* * *

They had to move the rug away from the fireplace so as not to get too hot. Harley's head swam from the wine she had drunk during dinner. Daryl's skin was warm against hers under the sheet, his lips softly grazing her skin while he slowly kissed her, making her tingle at every spot they met.

He was torturing her. She had been begging to get naked with him from the start of the night. He insisted on taking everything slow, to revel in their first time together after such a long time. He seemed to be enjoying prolonging the moment until he would enter her. Enjoying her begging him, pleading with him to place his hard cock in her. She lifted her hips to place her dripping wet center against him but he pulled back from her only to bend down and take her nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and sucking it hard, eliciting a deep moan from her.

Harley desperately needed relief for the tightness she felt in her pussy. She moved her arm from around his back and placed it between her legs, rubbing her clit, soaking her fingers in her own juices. She gyrated beneath him, rolling in the pleasure of her fingers while his tongue and mouth tended to her nipples. Harley cried out when Daryl's fingers joined her in rubbing the slick heat between her legs before pushing his fingers into her, slowly sliding them in and out.

"Ahhh baby, you're so ready," Daryl breathed out around her breast. He kissed his way along her chest, up her neck and covered her mouth with his, kissing her deeply while pulling his fingers out of her. Adjusting himself he started rubbing his hardness along her slit, stroking her clit up and down with his engorged head.

Harley tensed with anticipation as she moaned into Daryl's mouth.

"This is what you need baby?" He moved his cock closer to her opening. Harley responded with a moan. "You want it deep inside you?"

Harley moaned again and pushed against the tip of his hardness, hissing in pleasure as it breached her opening.

"I almost forgot how fucking good you feel," Daryl mumbled out as he pushed further into her, holding his breath and hoping he could hold on until she came. He breathed out, gripping her hip as he moved slowly in and out of her, loving the feeling of her moving against him to meet his strokes. He was so lost in the pleasure he almost didn't hear the loud knocking at the door.

"What the fuck?" He turned his head in time to see the front door open and Evan tip toe inside.

"Don't mind me," the boy said, shielding his face from seeing them with his hands. "I forgot something." Evan walked quickly to the stairs.

"Evan," Daryl growled at him but the boy was running up the stairs. Daryl looked down at an equally shocked Harley. "I'm going to kill him."

"Tomorrow. Kill him tomorrow," Harley said.

Daryl smiled and leaned forward to kiss her pulling away as heard Evan descend the steps. "Evan..."

"I know, I know. You're gonna beat my ass," the boy seemed completely unbothered by the harsh glares he was getting from both Harley and Daryl.

"Naked." Daryl raised an eyebrow at him. "If you come back in here I'm going to beat your ass while I'm naked Evan. Think about that."

Evan made a face, "do I have too?"

"Get out," Harley shouted. "Now."

"And lock that fucking door behind you," Daryl added. He turned back to Harley shaking his head. He settled back against her, brushing kisses along the side of her face. "Now where were we?"

Harley took hold of him and guided him towards her wanting opening. "We were here."

Daryl started giving her shallow strokes before plunging into her. His body tingled at the feeling of her clenching his cock and the sound of her crying out. He raised up on his arms and Harley pulled her legs back, giving him full access to her. He began to slam down into her as deep as he could go, watching her as she threw her head back, panting out her pleasure.

Throwing the sheet off of them he pulled out of her and sat up on his knees, "turn over baby. Put that ass in the air."

Harley turned over, placing her chest against the soft skin of the rug, spreading her legs a little as she showed him all of her from the back. Daryl licked his lips ready to dive back in when there was a round of loud knocking at the door.

"You're fucking kidding me. Now I'm really gonna kill that boy."

"Ignore it," Harley said pushing back against him.

The knocking came again along with the loud cry of Sophie on the other side. Harley looked back at Daryl, a look of defeat on his face. "It's Sophie," she moved away from him and grabbed up the sheet, wrapping it around her.

Daryl slowly got up. "Let me get in the room first," he mumbled as she went to the door.

When he was safely in the room Harley opened the door to Michonne holding Sophie who had a deep, sad frown on her face. At the sight of Harley Sophie leaned towards her and Harley took her in her arms.

"Sorry 'bout this," Michonne began. "She was fine until Judith went to sleep and she suddenly realised she wasn't going home and all hell broke loose."

Harley kissed the girl on her head. "Awww, too soon for sleep overs I guess."

Michonne smiled, "I think so. You might have to have adult time during the day when Judith is still awake."

"Maybe. Say bye bye to Michonne Sophie." The girl turned to Michonne and waved, smiling at the woman.

"Oh, now you're smiling at me now that you're telling my ass bye," Michonne chastised the girl. "Bye Harley."

As Harley closed the door Daryl came out in his pajama pants. "Hey Little Bit," he said to Sophie. "Our very own little birth control," his kissed the girl on her cheeks and she babbled happily at him.

Harley sat down on the couch with a sigh. "We're never going to have sex again are we?"

Daryl sat next to her. "As soon as she's asleep we're putting her in her crib and finishing what we started." He looked over to the front door. "Is that locked?"

Harley chuckled, "locked and latched."

"Good." He leaned over to kiss her while Sophie protested and tried to wedge her face between them.


End file.
